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LIBRARY OF
LEWIS BINGLEY WYNNE
A B., A.M. .COLUMBIAN COLLEGE. "71 .'73
WASHINGTON. D. C.
THE GIFT OF
MRS. MARY A. WYNNE
AND
JOHN H. WYNNE
CORNELL '98
1922
Cornell University Library
DA 690.M4P96
Memorials of Manchester streets.
3 1924 028 167 173
Cornell University
Library
The original of tiiis book is in
the Cornell University Library.
There are no known copyright restrictions in
the United States on the use of the text.
http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924028167173
MEMORIALS
MANCHESTER STREETS.
PRINTEn BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
MEMORIALS
MANCHESTER STREETS.
RICHARD WRIGHT PROCTER.
THOMAS SUTCLIFFE, MARKET PLACE,
1874.
''III, ,,\>
^S73b
■-i-^t.'- ■(■-/-- y
i^' '
t>^\^X^^ V" ^_
To
Mr JOHN O WEN,
whose mortuary treasures
{the patient gleanings of a lifetime)
have lent interest and value
to
Cl&ese Pages.
PREFACE.
IF any gleaner can add a fresh grain of wheat to the
historical harvest already garnered, it is presumable
he may bring his grain, and be welcomed ; and although,
as Solomon in his Wisdom averred, there is nothing abso-
lutely new under the sun, the old may sometimes be dis-
entombed to advantage, casting a redeeming light over the
forgotten past.
The past, be it remembered, is never found isolated in
Nature, but is interwoven inseparably with the present,
thus forming a beacon-flame for the future. So, taking
a dutiful lesson from the universal mother, I have en-
deavoured to blend " the quick and the dead " in this
chronicle of Manchester men and their abodes.
It has been observed by the favourite author of " Our
Village," that she valued much less any reputation she
might gain as a writer of romance, than the credit to be
derived from the less ambitious, but more useful, office of
faithfully uniting and preserving those fragments of tradi-
tion, experience, and biography which give to history its
living interest. To this article of Miss Mitford's literary
creed the writer of " Memorials of Manchester Streets " is
disposed to subscribe.
The series of chapters here presented was commenced
in the Manchester Guardian six years ago, and has been
continued at convenient intervals to a recent date.
In its collective form, the book has undergone careful
revision, extension, and re-arrangement, in order that it
viii Preface.
may be found reliable for reference and interesting to
peruse. In furtherance of the same endeavour, numerous
illustrations, original or rare, have been introduced. In
these illustrations the writer feels a certain amount of
confidence which the letterpress alone might fail to
engender. Their interest will take a wider range. In
addition to the connoisseurs who will prize them for their
antiquity, and increase the number in compliment to the
old town, many unlearned yet inquiring spirits will " read
the pictures " with pleasure, though unable to peruse the
author's portion of the volume. Even in this lettered age,
not all are lettered ; and with the untaught the eye must
be purveyor-in-ordinary to the intellect. Hence the value
of characteristic engravings, which, telling their own inter-
esting story, require no formal teacher.
The work is based on the earliest map of the town that
can be considered authentic, aided by Buck's admirable
South-West Prospect, taken in 1728, when our primitive
Lancashire borough was Manchester only, and before her
affairs had expanded into national or world-wide import-
ance. In other respects the volume will speak intelligibly for
itself, rendering unnecessary much prefatory matter.
In my parting paragraph I wish to acknowledge the
receipt of sundry items of information — often coming
unsought and unexpected, and therefore the more wel-
come. To name a few out of many aiders might seem
an invidious course ; so I bow, in preference, to each
kindly compliment, and in this wise lay aside the pen.
R. W. P.
Manchester, 1874,
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
hunt's bank.
A Glance beneath the Modernised Surface,
Etymology of Hunt's Bank — The Prison-House and its
Memories, .....
Old Buildings and New Improvements — Accidents — Mars and
Venus, ...
Views of Hunt's Bank, ....
Strangeways Walks, Stile, and Park — Eels in the Irwell,
Wilfulness of the River Irwell,
List of Floods, .....
" Rambles by Rivers," ....
Forgotten Burial - Ground at Hunt's Bank — " The Pauper":
Drive," ......
Manchester Prison-Life in Past Times,
House of Correction — " Spanking Roger " and the Footpads,
John Howard the Philanthropist — List of Prisoners,
The Chetham Library — Peculiar Features of Hunt's Bank,-
The Soldier's Return and Recompense,
CHAPTER II.
STRANGEWAYS HALL — COLONEL HANSON.
The "Big Park" and the "Little Park " — Muffin - Crier
Drowned, .....
Modem Erections covering the Ancient Demesne,
" The Weavers' Friend " — Meeting in St George's Field,
Imprisonment and Funeral of Colonel Hanson,
Monumental Inscriptions at Stand Chapel,
PAGE
I
3
4
S
6
7
9
lO
12
13
14
IS
i6
18
19
20
21
22
Contents.
CHAPTER III.
LONG MILLGATE AND RED BANK.
The Old Apple-Market — Mr Charles Lawson,
Supposed Homes of the Flemish Weavers,
The Sun Inn and Poets' Corner,
Election Day at Chetham's Hospital, .
The College Reading-Room, .
Crumpsall Hall Described,
Rev. Joshua Brookes — Thomas Barritt,
Ye Mylnegate : its Fields and Gardens,
Antique Mansions and their Owners, .
A Millgateer Shot — Fall of Three Shops,
" Manchester's Improving Daily,"
Nathan Wood (" Patten Nat "),
The Last Bull-bait — A Conscientious Printer,
Scotland and Gibraltar,
Job Hindley, ....
PAGE
26
27
28
30
31
33
35
36
38
39
40
41
44
45
46
CHAPTER IV.
SMITHFIELD MARKET AND ITS. VICINITY.
Punch and Judy, . . . . .
Smithfield Market — Bookstalls,
Book- Hunting and Booksellers,
Bygone Periodicals — Illustrated Shop-Windows,
Diary of James Weatherley, . . . .
Literary Ephemerals and Undying Favourites,
50
51
52
54
56
60
CHAPTER V.
god's acre.
The Cathedral Yard — Buried Generations,
Grave of Samuel Bamford's Mother
Accidents at Stanyhurst and at the New Bailey Brido-e"
Royalist Vicar of Kirkburton, . . " '
Murder at Mr Littlewood's, Pendleton,
City and Suburban " God's Acre "—Old Mortality
Sunday at Cartmel, . . _ ' '
62-
63
64
66
68
71
72
Contents.
XI
CHAPTER VI.
A GLANCE AT MARKET STREET AND PICCADILLY.
PAGE
Geoffrey Gimcrack— The " Red Rover," . .75
The Meadows of Market Street, . . -76
Piccadilly in Past Times, . . . . -78
Daubholes and the Ducking-stool, . . . -79
Singers and Comedians, . ... 80
Farewell Addresses, . . . . . . 8 r
Popular Sportsman and Venerable M.P., . -83
CHAPTER VII.
ROYAL VISIT — THE GREAT GALA DAY.
General Preparations,
Infirmary Pond and Fountains,
Arrival in Salford — Peel Park,
Entry into Manchester,
The " Iron Duke," .
Proceedings in the Exchange,
" Rise, Sir John Potter " — Triumphal Arches
The Illuminations,
Singing-Classes and Scholars at Patricroft,
The " Royal " Exchange,
86
87
88
89
91
92
93
94
95
97
CHAPTER VIII.
KNOT MILL.
The Roman Wall in Castle Field,
Sir Lancelot du Lake and Tarquin, .
Carving of Tarquin's Head at Chetham's College,
" Ancient Ballad of Sir Tarquin," .
Metrical Family Legends,
Origin and Etymology of Knot Mill, .
The River Tib — Labre/s Fold,
Humphreys' Garden, Knot Mill,
100
lOI
102
103
106
108
no
1 1 r
Xll
Contents.
CHAPTER IX.
ALDPORT : ITS LODGE AND PARK.
A Locality of many Names and Aspects,
The Sylvan Heritage of the Derbys and the Mosleys,
Edward, " Lord of Darby," ....
The " Erie " of Derby's Epitaph,
Archery Butts in Aldport Lane and at Old Garratt, .
Lord Strange at Aldport Lodge — Beginning of the Civil War,
The Siege of Manchester in 1642,
Emblematic Carving on a Church Boss,
Supposed Church at Aldport : Authorities pro and con,
Luddite Riots in 1 8 1 2 — " Watch and Ward,"
Double Murder on Ancoats Bridge, .
Trials and Executions of the Rioters,
Ancoats Old Hall Described,
PAGE
112
114
ii6
117
118
116
120
121
123
124
I2S
126
CHAPTER X.
DEANSGATE AND ITS BYWAYS.
Derivation of the Name, ....
Tonman Street — Statuette of Jupiter Stator discovered,
Stewart Street— Hale Churchyard,
Longworth Street — Aldport Weighing-Machine,
The Cockpit — The Windmill,
Labrey's Fold Revisited,
The Quay— The " Quakers' Folly," .
Brazennose Street — Cumberland Street,
Poorhouses — Almshouses,
Spinning Field — Tommy Lye the Jockey, - .
Kersal Moor : its Races and Ballads,
Wood Street — James and William Ogden,
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
I3S
136
137
139
CHAPTER XL
PICCADILLY REVISITED.
The Circus in Chatham Street—" Victorious Stump,"
John Wild the Pedestrian, ....
Library of Local Literature, ....
Characteristics of Piccadilly, ...
141
143
144
146
Contents. xiii
CHAPTER XII.
GORE STREET — HENRY LIVERSEEGE.
The Artist's Grave, ....
PAGE
. IS!
The Liverseege Memorial, .
. IS3
List of his Works, ....
• iSS
Little Red Riding-Hood,
. IS7
" Dirge for a Dead Painter,"
1 60
CHAPTER XIII.
LITERARY DEANSGATE.
Brief Summary of Deansgate, . . . .163
Mr Joseph Aston, . . . . . .164
His Friendship with James Montgomery, . . .165
Printing-office attacked by a Mob : Types thrown into
"Pye," . . . . . .166
Prospectus oi the ManchesUr Mai/, . . . .168
Mr Aston's Local and Dramatic Works, . . .171
CHAPTER XIV.
THE OLD CHURCHYARD.
Its Rural Features Portrayed, . . . .170
Juvenile Branches and Parent Stems, . -177
Charity School in the Churchyard, . . . .178
Summer Camp — Rev. John Whitaker, . . -179
Rise and Progress of Letterpress Printers, Stationers, Binders,
Booksellers, and Newspaper Publishers in Manchester, . 1 80
CHAPTER XV.
THE RESTING-PLACE.
Dr Samuel Hibbert-Ware, . . . •
William Robert Whatton, ....
John Palmer, .....
Rise and Progress of Printing and Bookselling concluded,
The Market-Placein 1823, ....
Primitive Printing- Office, ....
189
190
191
193
194
199
XIV
Contents.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE DENE GATE OF YORE.
Ridge Field and the Ridge Family, .
The Parsonage and its former Residents,
Buck's Prospect of the Parsonage Lands,
" Cherry Ripe " — " Saynte Mary Gayte,"
Burials at Cross Roads,
Everett and Montgomery in Sedgwick's Court,
Tombstone Inscriptions of the Sowler Family,
PAGE
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
CHAPTER XVII.
A RETROSPECT OF DEANSGATE.
Looking Backward, ......
Jesse Lee — Valedictory Address, ....
" Sir Percy Legh," with a Glance at other Legends not in-
cluded by Mr Roby in his unfinished " Traditions of
England," .....
The Water-Poet's " Eagle and Child,"
The Sorrocolds and the " Pynners," .
The Old Coffee-House, ....
John Taylor's Description of his Entertainment,
Street Nomenclature,
213
214
21S
218
219
220
221
222
CHAPTER XVII L
SMITHY DOOR BANK.
Picturesque Home of John Easby,
Randam Scenes from Life, .
Amateur Performances and Strolling Thespians,
Mrs Ann Hinde : Monumental Inscription, .
The Green-Gown School : Epitaphs on the Gravestone of the
First Master and Mistress,
Present Value of the School Property,
Robert Thyer : his Tenement and Gardens at Smithy Door
Bank, .
Ruminations on Victoria Bridge,
The Trafford Arms— Fatal Panic in the Music Saloon
224
225
227
229
230
232
233
234
237
Contents.
XV
CHAPTER XIX.
OVER SALFORD BRIDGE.
PAGE
The Irwell in the Last Century — Boathouse — Curious Bath, . 239
Spaw Street— The Salford Charter, .... 240
Early Impressions of Salford, . . . .242
Springfield Lane — Collier's Printworks, . . 244
Charles Broster — Sarah Brearcliffe, .... 245
Country Names and Town Streets, .... 246
The Cockpit and Cockfighting, . . . .247
Salford Cross and Court-House — Coronation Rejoicings, . 248
John Wesley Preaching — " Birds of Paradise," . . 249
Sal Ford— " Cherry Ripe," . . . -251
Buttercups and Daisies, . . . -253
CHAPTER XX.
ST Ann's square and its silent inmates.
Ancient Inlets to St Ann's Square — Trees Growing therein, . 258
Notes from the Diary of a Manchester Wigmaker, . 259
Inscriptions in St Ann's Churchyard, . . .260
Notices of the De Quincey Family, . . . .261
John Shaw — " House-warming " on the Site of the Old Punch-
House, ...... 264
Latest Users of Sedan- Chairs — Mulberry Street, . .265
The Manchester Jacobites, . . . . .266
The First Exchange, . . . . .268
CHAPTER XXI.
bits of our borough town.
Official and Mercantile Announcements — Glimpses of Man-
chester Life during the Last Century, . . 269-274
Hen Speaking on Shrove-Tuesday, . . . .273
Butter seized, Britannia and St George and the Dragon notwith-
standing, . . . • .274
Clock Alley— " Hot Chelsea Buns," . . . .275
xvi Contents.
CHAPTER XXII.
EARLIEST AND LATEST EPITAPHS.
PAGE
Inscriptions of the Taylor Family of Marshleach, . . 278
Tombstone Inscription of Humphrey Booth, of Salford, . 279
Centenarians — Gallant Amazon, . . . .280
Peculiar Entries from the Registers, . . . .281
Dutch Soldiers in Manchester ; their presence here accounted
for by the Revolution, . . . . .282
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE bishop's grave.
The Country Churchyard, . . . . .284
Monument at Heaton Mersey, . . .285
Biographical Sketch of Bishop Lee, . . . .286
Memorial Sermon by Dr Benson, . . . .287
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE WAY HOME.
Remarks on the Early History of Manchester, . .288
Notice of John Higson, . . . . .288
« Rough Notes on Old Manchester," Essay purioined, . 289
Rebuilding of the Cathedral Tower, . . . .292
St Mary's of Doomsday Book, . . . 291-296
Contents.
xvii
APPENDIX.
ON THE CHETHAM LIBRARY.
BY JAMES CROSSLEY, F.S.A.
Causes of Pleasure, ....
Visit to the Library, and Speculations thereon.
Mausoleums and Libraries compared,
Curiosities formerly shown at the Chetham Library,
Standard Books and their Authors, .
Pleasure and Value of Intercourse with Antiquity,
PAGfe
299-300
301-304
. 310
3II-3I4
II.
OLD MANCHESTER AND ITS WORTHIES.
BY JAMES CROSTON, F.S.A.
England's Warriors and her Peaceful Worthies,
Gossiping Delineations of the Ancient Town,
Traces of the Roman Road, .
Brief Biographical Sketches,
. 318
319-333
. 322
333-383
DESCRIPTIVE LIST OF THE
ILLUSTRATIONS.
The Publisher tenders his best thanks to those gentlemen who have kindly aided in
the embellishment of these Memorials by the loan of artistic rarities.
Rural Sport ; or, a Peep at a Lancashire Rush-Cart
Frontispiece.
From the original painting by Alexander Wilson, in the
possession of Mr Roger Wilson, Woodford, Cheshire.
"Rural Sport" is here reproduced by the Woodbury pro-
cess, under the superintendence of Alfred Brothers. The
artist has chosen Long Millgate as the scene of his Morris-
dance, the date being 1821.
" The wakes ! the wakes ! the jocund wakes !
My wandering memory now forsalces
The present busy scene of things,
Erratic, upon Fancy's wings,
For olden times, with garlands crown'd.
And rush-carts green on many a mound."
Elijah Ridings.
Residence of the High Master of the Grammar
School, Long Millgate, 1821 . . . Title-page,
From a drawing by H. G. James.
PAGE
Seal of Old Manchester .... i
House of Correction, Hunt's Bank, aboiit 1766 . . 13
Facsimile of a drawing by Thomas Barritt.
Strangeways Hall, 1746 18
From Berry & Casson's Plan.
34
XX Descriptive List of the Illustrations.
PAGE
Residence of the High Master of the Grammar
School 25
From a drawing by H. G. James.
View near the Old Apple-Market . . . . 26
Ancient Houses in Long Millgate . . . . 28
From "Views in Lithography of Old Halls, &c., in Man-
chester and the Vicinity." Six parts, folio, 1821. Drawn by
H. G. James. Printed at H. F. James's Lithographic Press
Ridge Field.
College Old Gate and Grammar School
From a drawing by F. Mackenzie, in "The Foundations."
The- "Red Rover" Stage Coach, in Market Street, 1823 75
The Infirmary, 1815 _„
The Queen's Visit to Manchester— The Great
Gala Day, 1851 gc
Drawn by George Hayes. Engraved by William Morton.
Remains of the Roman Wall in Castle Field, 1873 100
Original Sketch by F. A. Winkfield.
Outlet of the River Tib at Gaythorn, 1873 • 109
Original Sketch by F. A. Winkfield.
Emblematic Carving on a Church Boss . . 120
Facsimile Copy.
Ancoats Old Hall
Engraved by Henry Watkinson.
Statuette of Jupiter Stator, found in Camp Field . 128
Drawn by F. A. Winkfield.
The Key (Quay), 1746
From Berry & Casson's Plan.
The Liverseege Memorial
Dmwn on the Wood, by F. A. Winkfield. From an
origmal sketch by George Richardson,
125
133
152
Descriptive List of the Illustrations. xxi
The Market-Place 194
Drawn by J. Ralston. Copied from a series of ten Litho-
graphic Views, thus dedicated on the pictorial title-page : —
" To the Boroughreeve, Constables, and the Commissioners
acting under the Manchester Streets Improvement Act :
This work is, with permission, respectfully inscribed by their
obedient servants D. & P. Jackson, Repository of Arts,
No. I Spring Gardens, 1823." The painter, named at the
foot of the said emblematical title-page, was Mr Mather
Brown, principal artist to H.R.H the Duke of York; the
drawers on stone being A. Aglio and J. D. Harding.
PRINTING-OFFICE OF HaRROP'S "MERCURY," 1752 . 199
Facsimile.
South-West Prospect of Manchester, 1728 . . 204
By Samuel and Nathaniel Buck. Photo-lithographed by
Alfred Brothers.
The chief feature of this rare and interesting view is the
clear, winding -Irwell. The past and present appearance of
the river has been thus contrasted by a local minstrel : —
" Whoe'er hath seen dark Irwell's tide.
Its sombre look and sullen glide,
' Would never deem that it, I ween,
Had ever brighter, gayer been. . .
When Irwell rolled by feudal tower.
By shady grove, and fairy bower ;
When on her banks so oft was borne
Sweet music of the hunter's horn. . . .
Forests are here, but not of trees ;
Forests are here, the homes of men ;
Mancunium's sons are as the leaves
Which bloomed upon the forest then."
Joseph Anthony,
Old Coffee-House and Shops, about 1774 . . 220
From a drawing by Thomas Barritt.
A few of Mr Barritt's unique sketches are preserved in the
Greaves Collection, but the principal portion are treasured
in the Manchester Scrap-Book, at the Chetham Library. In
the catalogue thereof an interesting note has been appended
by Mr Jones, the courteous librarian : — " This folio volume,
presented by the late Earl of EUesmere, 1838, includes
several articles subsequently added of local interest."
xxii Descriptive List of the Illustrations.
PAGE
St Ann's Square, 1746 256
From Berry & Casson's Plan.
Tombstone of Thomas de Quincey, in St Cuthbert's
Churchyard, Edinburgh ...... 263
Original Sketch.
The First Exchange, 1729-1792 . . 268
From Berry & Casson's Plan.
North-West View of Chetham's Hospital and
Library, 1797 299
From a drawing by W. Orme.
Crumpsall Cottage, the supposed Birthplace* of Hugh
Oldham ......... 341
Engraved by Robert Langton.
Crumpsall Hall, the Birthplace of Humphrey Chetham 352
Engraved by Robert Langton.
*..j* The whole (save three or four othenvise named) of the Woodcuts have been
drawn on the wood by Frederick A. Winkfield, of Ardwick, and
engraved by CHRISTOPHER Davies, of this city, and Robert Paterson, of
Edinburgh.
* A rival claim is advanced by Fuller in favour of the town of Oldham.
,":;
t \. ■«
IWV^,
SEAL OF OLD MANCHESTER.
MEMORIALS
MANCHESTER STREETS.
CHAPTER I.
hunt's bank.
' ' Old visions haunt the creaking floors,
Old sorrows sit and wail ;
While stUl the night-winds out of doors
Like burly baUiffs rail !
Old visions haunt the floor above ;
The walls with wrinkles frown :
And people say, who pass that way,
'Twere well the house were down."
Charles Swain.
'"T^HE subject to which we wish to draw the reader's
-*- attention in our opening pages may seem un-
promising, comprising, as it does, merely one hundred
yards (be the same more or less) of new, commonplace
surface, wherein the casual observer might see as little as
Wordsworth's obtuse potter saw in the primrose by the
river's brim, or as Sir Charles Coldstream perceived while
listlessly peering into the crater of Vesuvius. Neverthe-
less, we have confidence in our chosen theme, and hope to
extract something of interest by looking a little beneath
Memorials of Manchester Streets.
the surface, and by embracing the border line, or watery
way.
Our first motto verse, selected from Mr Swain's poem
entitled "Mortality,"' may require a few explanatory words
to show its relevancy as a text to the present discourse.
We know not whether the poet's haunted mansion con-
sisted of mouldering bricks and mortar, or merely rose in
the vividness of his fancy, to become tenanted by his
iniagination ; but the prison-house to which the stanza is
here applied was tangible enough. In the dungeon so long
and sternly visible at Hunt's Bank the sorrowing inmates
sat and wailed their fill, with little to cheer them save the
visions of pleasanter days. The " night winds," sweeping
across the tree-decked confluence of the two rivers Irk
and Irwell^ would " rail " as they listed. The floors, being
formed partly of rock, might scarcely be termed
" creaking ; " yet the walls frowned in their own rude
manner; and few persons expressed regret when the
ancient Fleet, becoming superseded by the New Bailey,
was ultimately taken down.
Hunt's Bank, Who was Hunt? Can any reader,
howsoever learned in the art, mystery, or science of
etymology, inform us .' His identity seems lost in the
lapse of many ages, and he is now as insubstantial as the
fabulous myth, — as shadowless as Peter Schlemihl. With
his solid and more enduring " Bank " we have been familiar
since our childhood. We remember that rugged ascent
before the road levellers (how mercilessly they did level
hereabout !) came to clear away the long row of miscel-
laneous houses, public and private, which lined the water-
side between the two bridges. They were built upon the
Htmi's Bank.
rock, and partly overhanging the Irwell. Nor must we
omit the flight of broad, easy steps leading gently to the
Old Church, and to the narrow passage flagged with
lettered gravestones. All these, with the addition of " Tin
Brow " and sundry workshops, were swept away to form
the wide new entrance into the town. The passage in
question was known as "The Steeple End." The local
habitations, and the names of those martyrs to improve-
ment, were retained in the Directory to the year 1832, but
in the succeeding issue of that useful record, in 1836, the
whole of the antiquated cluster had disappeared, and its
pages knew them no more. In the year last named, the
newly-erected wall supporting the road fell into the river,
destroying in its fall the dyeworks on the Salford side.
Many years previously (in July 18 14), several houses and
part of a soapery fell into the water, when three persons
perished. Still earlier — October 1798 — a man missing
his way near the Ring o' Bells Tavern, walked into the
Irwell, and was drowned.
Of the opposite, or College side of Hunt's Bank, the
quaint features of the olden time may still be traced in a
truthful engraving, the handiwork of W. Orme and others,
about the year 1794, wherein the College, being elevated
on the rock, holds the premier position. The packhorse,
a genuine relic of primitive Manchester, is seen jogging
lazily along on the Strangeways side of the Irk. Upon
the pathway, a loyal volunteer is seasonably introduced.
He is pictured in characteristic uniform, with his sweetheart
won to his side — ^the old life-story of love and war. Alas
for the men of peace and unromantic trade ! Albeit the
island of Lemnos is far away, and Mars and Venus have
4 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
long ago descended to mythological shades, the chains
of Vulcan, though invisible, still bind them together as of
yore. Crossing the bridge, a picturesque cottage is shown,
of which we have no personal recollection ; but with the
adjoining house, the Castle Inn, we were familiar, inside
and out Next appears the dungeon, with deserted cells,
and into these we were wont to peer curiously and in play.
The sylva of the scene is represented by a leafless solitary
tree. The view is bounded by the church tower: the whole
being historically described by Thomas Miller — whose
descriptions are so uniformly agreeable, that it is grieving
to see the hat sent round for him in his sad decline.
Of this scene a local bard-^Charles Kenworthy — writing
in 1838, thus conveys his impressions in rhyme : —
" The ' Castle,' that long braved the flood,
Where oft was brewed stout ale and good,
A CoUege Inn is seen :
Where frowned the ancient dungeon wall
Rise modern buildings, fair and tall.
And stables Palatine."
Mr Orme's picture would be an almost indispensable
accompaniment to these memorials, had we not already
secured two views of the same spot from different stand-
points, and depicting the sarne period within a few years.
If in the latter engraving we lose the front prospect of the
Bank, we gain the surface of the river, even while the Irk
was as yet uncovered, and urchins could pursue their duck-
chasing in the shallow stream.
Thus far have we written while thinking of an apocryphal
Mister Hunt in connection with the nomenclature of the
Bank. A clearer light has been cast on the subject by a
Hunfs Bank.
glance at the " Copy of a deed of infeftment, dated the
8th November 1422, of Thomas la Warre, twelfth baron
of Manchester, of various lands and the advowson of the
parish church, to feoffees for the use of the College." In
this deed, minutely descriptive of our subject-matter, no
mention is made of Hunt's Bank ; but the words Hunt Hull
appear instead. As hull, in its obsolete sense, means hill,
it will be manifest the place has derived its name from the
sylvan chase. To a comparatively recent period rustic
names and associations have allied themselves to this
locality. Our Directories for 1788 and 1794 bear witness
to the existence of "Strangeways Walks, Hunt's Bank,"
and also " Strangeways Stile." A few years earlier, Peter
Romney, elder brother of George Romney, the famous
Lancashire painter, thus alluded to the sylvan character of
the district : —
" Beneath the deep and gloomy shade
Of Strangeways woody park."
Even the river Irwell, though now laving the foot of
Hunt's Bank darkly and unlovably, flowed on its ancient
way, within our limited remembrance, a much clearer,
purer stream, as a simple incident will show. One day,
in the summer of 1825, while playing with a juvenile group
near the then new iron bridge (named the Waterloo, the
first stone being laid in 181 7), we observed an eel in the
water, and pursued it along the river's bank, to which it
closely swam. Several times we caught it in our hand, but
could not retain the slippery struggler. We parted com-
pany at the junction of the Irwell with the Irk. This feat
we should find some difficulty in performing now, even
Memorials of Manchester Streets.
were an eel thereabouts to tempt us, inasmuch as the
traversed land— Waterworth's Field— is no longer an open
meadow. On a portion of the space embankments have
been constructed for railway uses ; while on each side of
the river the ground has been raised as a bulwark against
the oft-recurring inundations.
Although thus closely invested, and during the dry
summer months effectually subdued, the Irwell makes a
series of sorties in the rainy periods, which, sadly puzzle
the besieging forces. Being a remarkably sympathetic
river, it swells with emotion whenever its numerous tribu-
taries become oppressed to overflowing. In this dangerous
mood it breaks down or overleaps the barriers, chasing its
retreating opponents even to their homesteads. It has
been known to wash out the cradle containing the sleeping
child, casting the novel boat adrift on the turbulent stream,
afar from the gentler bosom of the weeping mother. Else-
where it compels the elders to seek refuge in their upper
storeys, while the youngsters make light of their troubles
by floating upon the drawers in the lower rooms, guiding
their raft with long brushes and brooms instead of oars.
In the open fields upgrown people lose their way in its
swollen waters, and are afterwards found drowned. Of the
loss of property consequent on such reprisals we need not
speak, as floating pigs, swimming sheep, rushing timber,
are familiar enough, especially to the luckless wights who
lose their balance in seizing the spoils of the flood. With
the view of putting an end to this guerilla warfare between
the land and the water forces, the neutral powers have been
summoned to a conference. The authorities of Salford,
acknowledging a defeat, are willing to pay a very heavy
Hunt's Bank.
war contribution, on condition that the Irwell will give
material guarantees for a lasting peace. Let us hope the
combined negotiators will deal gently with the erring one,
remembering that persuasion is better than force. Let
them stroke the mane of the wilful creature, after the
Rarey fashion, rather than strike him on the forehead witli
an iron bar, as Carter subdued the lion, On the outer wall
of the Castle (afterwards the College) Inn, at Hunt's Bank,
might be seen, prior to its removal, a series of interesting
marks indicating the height of many inundations. As those
hieroglyphics are no longer available, we take the liberty of
transferring to our narrative a more complete and chrono-
logical record of the Irwell's freaks, lately furnished by a
correspondent to the Salford Chronicle. The omission of
a few comments, and the addition of several incidents and
authorities, may be noted.
1616. Extraordinary great flood. Men stood upon
Salford Bridge, and ladled up water with a little piggin, —
Hollingwortk.
1649. A great flood. January.
(172 1. The river was made navigable for vessels of fifty
tons.)
1767. Great flood. October.
1768. High floods.
1787. Great flood during seven days, which carried
away a portion of Salford Bridge.
1799. Great floods, which did much damage. August.
1804. High floods.
(1806. Broughton Bridge built at the cost of Samuel
Clowes, Esq. Rebuilt in 1869. Declared free of toll
in 1872.)
8 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
1816. Great flood; water higher than in 1768. January.
1829. High floods. August.
1837. Very high flood ; water in New Bailey Street and
Broughton Road ; cattle, furniture, and baby in cradle
floating down the river. December.
1840. Great flood, which did considerable damage.
January.
1843. The temporary foot-bridge, near the New Bailey,
washed down by the swollen stream. October.
1852. High floods; the river overflowed its banks,
causing much loss.
1 866. Great flood ; water in Strangeways ; serious loss
of property. November. So remarkable was the height and
breadth of this inundation, that an obelisk has been
erected at Peel Park in commemoration thereof.
1870. High flood ; a little below the level of that in 1866.
To a thoughtful gazer, a river is always a suggestive
object, especially when it happens, as in the present
instance, to be our native stream ; and the sight of its
waters carries us back to our buttercups and daisies, and
when, like Ponce de Leon, we yearn and search for the
priceless fountain of youth, which never can be twice
found. "Rambles by rivers" is indeed a fruitful theme,
and forms the title of a pleasant book, where fact and
fancy, the present and the past, walk leisurely hand in
hand, the descriptions being enlivened by pictured views.
When the Avon is associated with Shakespeare, the
Duddon with Wordsworth, the Lea with "the meek old
angler, knight of hook and line," how can we fail to
become interested }
Of the river Duddon we retain a pleasant memory.
Hunt's Bank.
albeit at second-hand, as derived from an artist's well-filled
sketch-book. Mr William Hull, erst of Manchester, but
latterly residing in the Lake district, once wandered in the
footsteps of Wordsworth along the course of the Duddon.
Perhaps Mr Hull had read Mr Thome's "Rambles by
Rivers," and thence derived the hint. At all events, he
strolled from Wrynose Fell, where the Duddon — "cradled
nursling of the mountain" — rises, to its junction with
the sea near the Isle of Walney. Within that space he
delineated with his pencil the varied scenes described
by the poet's pen. Flowers, stepping-stones, faery chasms,
and tributary rills, ruins, open prospects, the "dark
plumes of the blighted yew," the resting-place ; all were
presented : and as we turned over those summer glories,
leaf by leaf, at our winter fireside, the contrast gave a
delight of its own. Of our simple choice, we sometimes
prefer an artist's sketches to the finished painting com-
posed therefrom. Many a suggestive charm, or delicate
indication of the pencil, is lost in the sterner brush or
more positive graver. Wordsworth and the Duddon may
now be left to their repose: but are there not other
authors, and other streams, and other pencils in Old
England .■'
The recent alteration of the College Wall at Hunt's Bank
has displaced a mysterious mound-like enclosure which
long occupied that spot. How few of the busy multitude
who daily passed and repassed, between the railway station
and the city marts knew this was a forgotten burial-ground I
Yet such in reality it was. When the space in the old
churchyard became inconveniently limited, this adjacent
ground was purchased, in 1767, by subscription, in
lo Memorials of Manchester Streets.
addition to a ley, walled round, and set apart for the
interment of paupers, and others of the indigent or vagrant
fraternity. The incisive lines of a modern poet find here
a time-worn application : —
THE PAUPER'S DRIVE.
By T. Noel. (Sometimes erroneously attributed to T. Hood.)
" There's a grim one-horse hearse in a jolly round trot ;
To the churchyard a pauper is going, I wot ;
The road it is rough, and the hearse has no springs.
And hark to the dirge that the sad driver sings :
Rattle his bones over the stones ;
He's only a pauper, whom nobody owns !
" Oh, where are the mourners ? Alas ! there are none ;
He has left not a gap in the world now he's gone ;
Not a tear in the eye of child, woman, or man —
To the grave with his carcase as fast as you can.
Rattle his bones over the stones ;
He's only a pauper, whom nobody owns !
" What a jolting and creakhig, and splashing and din !
The whip how it cracks ! and the wheels how they spin !
How the dirt, right and left, o'er the hedges is hurled !
The pauper at length makes a noise in the world.
Rattle his bones over the stones ;
He's only a pauper, whom nobbdy owns !
" Poor pauper defunct ! he has made some approach
To gentiUty, now that he's stretched in a coach ;
He's taking a drive in his carriage at last,
But it will not be long if he goes on so fast.
Rattle his bones over the stones ;
He's only a pauper, whom nobody owns ! ,
" You bumpkin,- who stare at your brother conveyed.
Behold what respect to a cloddy is paid,
Hunt's Bank. 1 1
And be joyful to think, when by Death you're laid low,
You've a chance to the grave like a gemman to go.
Rattle his bones over the stones ;
He's only a pauper, whom nobody owns !
" But a truce to this strain, for my soul it is sad,
To think that a heart in humanity clad
Should make, like the brutes, such a desolate end.
And depart from the light without leaving a friend.
Bear softly his bones over the stones ;
Though a pauper, he's one whom his Maker yet owns !"
During twenty-one years the interments in this tempo-
rary fragment of " God's Acre " numbered six thousand
three hundred and eighty-three. In February 1788, at a
parish meeting, it was resolved — " That the burial-ground
adjoining the College " Garden " shall be closed up, and no
bodies be deposited for thirty years to come." These facts
are verified by the churchwardens' accounts of that period.
The ground was never re-opened, and every trace of its
existence is now removed. To become lost in the grave
is a hard though common fate ; but when the grave itself
has thus perished, the poor obliterated dust seems doubly
abandoned.
At this stage of our narrative we wish to illustrate, by
means of a few curious items of information, the simphcity
of Manchester prison life in past times — in that older past
which was buried before we were born. But as our
personal experience is, of course, insufficient for the
purpose, what then? Sisyphus could not roll his cease-
less stone unaided to its resting-place on the hill-top.
Fortunately we have friends in the antiquarian court,
which court is as full of peculiar treasures as was the
far-famed Persian cave ; and we have only to exclaim,
1 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
with Ali Baba, " Open sesame ! " to find our reasonable
wishes gratified. So we borrow the requisite fragmentary
ore — the pickings from parish registers, the churchyard
gleanings, the rubbings from ancient brasses, and the like ;
place them in a modern crucible ; proceed to blend and
polish them with somewhat of the lapidary's art, and lo !
we have Aladdin's lamp, the new one for the old. The
prison once located at Hunt's Bank on the declivity of
the hill was a genuine antique ; but we can discover no
trace of its remote origin. Mr Harland's supposition that
the dungeon was coevctl with the Baron's Court is quite
feasible. A newer jail was built in 1580: so states Mr
Timperley in his "Annals ; " and "the expense was for a
time imposed on the more wealthy of the prisoners." It
had, like some of its inmates, many aliases, being known
at different periods as the Dungeon, the New Fleet,
the House of Correction. The first title was justified by
a dark hole, fourteen feet by thirteen, at the bottom of
nine steps. This place of confinement should not be
confounded with a near neighbour and rival situated on
Salford Bridge. The latter dungeon, erst a chapel, built
by Thomas del Bothe in 1 36.8, was converted into a prison
in 1505, and used mainly as a lockup until taken down in
1776. As Manchester possessed no parish registers prior
to 1 573) these cannot direct us to the earliest incarcera-
tions at Hunt's Bank, nor even to the unfortunates there
immured for conscience' sake during the gloomy days
of Queen Mary; so we must needs begin our examples
with the reign of Elizabeth, concluding them with the
Georgian era.
In 1581, one "Richard Smithe, an ould pryst, died in
t .'*^
tB B.
\ I
1 y
B »- '■J
I Pk ■>-»
I * * t «. _
Hunt's Bank. 1 3
the ffleet." On the 7th of February 1584, died " Henrye
Jackson, prysoner in the ffleete." In 1601 appears an
entry of a different kind: — "January 15, Alice, doughter
of Richard Hodghead, borne in the dungion." Five years
later came a wild reckless character, who resolutely defied
the plague of Manchester in the height of its terrors. The
account of this strange prisoner is derived, through a
friendly hand, from the Calendar of State Papers : — " 1605.
James Asheton to the constables of Manchester. I hear
that Philip Fytton, of Moston, labourer, behaves danger-
ously in going to places and persons- infected with the
plague, and thence bringing apparel, and wearing the same,
and wandering abroad in the daytime, and in the night
lying in outhouses of divers inhabitants of Moston, to their
grief and danger ; and although he has been chained m his
cabin by the constables of Moston, he has broken the
chain. I therefore, in his Majesty's name, command you,
the constables and officers of the town, to receive the said
Fytton into your prison or dungeon of Manchester and
Salford, there to remain at the cost of the town of Moston
until further orders."
The next quotation from the register is an accidental
death:— "Dec. 9, 1707.— Buried, James Glassbrook, a
soldier ; burnt himself in the dungeon." Another captive,
of the Jack Sheppard school, had a turn of better fortune
in 1769, as thus : — One night in September of that year,
as Cornet Aytoun (Dame Mynshull's " Spanking Roger ")
was going home to Chorlton Hall in his coach, he was
attacked near his own door by two footpads, one of whom
demanded his money. "What money.?" inquired the
Cornet, leaping out of his carriage ; whereupon the men
14 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
ran away, and Roger, pursuing, caught one of them in a
field.- Securing the footpad for the night in Chorlton
Hall, Mr Aytoun sent him in the morning to the dungeon.
On being removed to the deputy-constable's house, for
examination before a magistrate and committal to Lan-
caster Castle, the prisoner made his escape through a
window, and got clear off.
Cornet Aytoun was of the Inchdairney family, and
came to Manchester on recruiting service, for which he was
well fitted by his winning and familiar ways. He was
literally a ^?r«/ favourite, being six feet four inches high,
with breadth and strength in proportion.
It appears that the small community of " Shakers " were
more demonstrative a hundred years ago than they have
been in our time. A number of these enthusiasts entered
the Old Church on a certain Sunday in July 1773, and
there — according to Harrop — "wilfully and contemptu-
ously, in the hour of divine service, disturbed the congre-
gation then assembled at morning prayers." For this freak
two men and two women were fined twenty pounds each
at the Sessions. In default of payment they were confined
in the House of Correction, at a cost to the town of four
pounds six shillings. John Howard, the philanthropist,
paid several visits to Manchester, and the result of his
researches is briefly appended : —
I774-— Nov. 5. Prisoners 21
I77S-— Nov. 16. „ 6
1776.— Sep. 15. „ 12
17^9-— May 12. „ n
1779.— May 12. Impressed men 6
1782.— Nov. 22. Prisoners 14
1784.— Jan. 22. „ 51
1787.— Dec. 27. „ ^3
Hunt's Bank.
Mr Howard's later returns give evidence of increasing
business and extended appreciation ; but just when its
"good time was coming," the primitive Fleet was super-
seded by the New Bailey. Mr Howard's book informs us
that the "keeper's" salary had lately (1776) been raised
from twenty-five pounds to sixty pounds in lieu of fees.
The keeper was a chandler, and employed the inmates in
spinning candle-wick at three halfpence a pound. As the
prisoners had no allowance (except twopence a day to the
sick) their earnings were assisted by a poor-box, placed in
front of the building, and bearing this inscription : — " Sick
and in prison, and ye visited me not."
A comical yet truthful picture of the House of Correction
may be seen in the local scrap-book at Chetham's Librarj^,
the oldest free library in England, where there are nume-
rous curiosities remaining, notwithstanding so many have
been given away. Why (in parenthesis) has Humphrey
Chetham's legacy been so fiercely assailed of late.' In
these days of minority members of Parliament, surely the
minority of antiquarian and studious readers may retain
their one favourite library, their only historical baronial
retreat, when the rough-and-ready majority possess a free
library in every district of the city. Let us preserve, and
take a pride in preserving, the best and wellnigh the last
lingering relic of ancient Manchester. The small picture
in question shows the prison frontage with five windows,
three being cross-barred. From two of these are suspended
five long ropes, bags being tied to the ends to receive con-
tributions, while prisoners stand at the windows to solicit
alms, in money, tobacco, or food, from the passers-by. At
the door, the beadle is pushing in an unwilling captive.
1 6 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Adjoining the dungeon, and nearing the church, stands the
College Barn, taken down subsequent to 1763. On the
Salford side are trees, repeating themselves in the translu-
cent Irwell. Upon the green margin at Hunt's Bank sits
a disciple of Izaak Walton, angling, with due patience, for
eels, — a kind of fish once plentiful at this " Meeting of the
Waters," and along the entire course of the Irk ; and so
exquisitely flavoured withal, that the warden, in 1440, found
it worth his while to rent the right of fishery, and thus
secure to the clergy a dainty supply during Lent. The
literal, sometimes ungainly, but ever-reliable pencil of Mr
Thomas Barritt has rescued the peculiar features of this
scene, which varies considerably from both the views
sketched a few years later by Mr Orme, and serves to com-
plete the prospect of ancient Hunt's Bank.
Our closing entry touching the House of Correction
refers to one James Owen, who was committed in 1789
for running away from his wife and family. It transpired
that this venial offender — almost the last immured at
Hunt's Bank — had been tempted by the recruiting
sergeant, yielded to his blandishments, and after spend-
ing the enlistment shilling, marched hastily away to the
distant battle-field. On his return home, the wife would
listen to no explanation, nor sing, in anticipation, " Come
whoam to thi childer an' me." She felt no sympathy with
soldiering, and was evidently as unwilling as Clytemnestra
that her Agamemnon should sacrifice long years of do-
mestic felicity, even for the public weal. Hence "the
punishment of her truant warrior lord. The mania for
" woman's rights " is not so novel as many persons sup-
Hunt's Bank. 1 7
pose. Those " rights " were understood, appreciated,
and enforced by many Mistress Owens long before the
Victorian era. In wresting every atom of the traditional
"pound of flesh," Shylock has not stood alone,
CHAPTER II.
STRANGEWAYS HALL — COLONEL HANSON.
" The tall elms come into the mind's eye, and the old baronial mansion, and
the broken stile leading into the orchard, and the mantled pool, with a thousand
other pleasant scenes trooping back with the memory of boyhood."
Horace Heartwell (H. B. Peacock).
DURING the present writer's youth, the ancient de-
mesne of the Strangewaies was still a convenient
retreat for the townsfolk, especially for the juveniles — a
rough free recreation ground, somewhat resembling Philips
Park when first formed. The Hall itself, while retaining some
peculiarities, was not strikingly pictorial ; but the pond
adjoining was well stored with choice fish, and two distant
sheets of water, situated upon higher ground, known
respectively as the "Big Park" and the "Little Park,"
afforded seasonable amusement to anglers in their teens.
Young bathers, sliders, skaters -here abounded; the con-
sequences being, that in summer narrow escapes from
drowning, and in winter fatal disasters upon the treacher-
ous ice, were of frequent occurrence. These ponds, being
unprotected, were dangerous to staider persons. One
night, in the darkness of winter, the passers-by heard
shrieking sounds ; but the wind being high, and whistling
through the scattered trees in the neighbouring clough, no
-*(&.
I' 1 1 I I 1 n
i I I ■!! T ■] i '". , ,,,.f,„
'>i;ii.'.h'!r ji-'i vT.i'iJTr(-'Miala
STRANG EWAVS HALL. I 746.
Strangeways Hall. 1 9
notice was taken. In the morning, however, an elderly
dame was discovered in the water. Nearly half a century
she had been known as a muffin-crier thereabouts, and
wandering from the uncertain pathway, she had sunk into
the pond. This incident has attracted the notice of a
writer (Mr W. F. Peacock) in the Belgravia Magazine. It
seems needless to add, save for the information of distant
readers, that Strangeways Hall is now supplanted by the
Assize Courts, while the once-green heritage surrounding
it is covered by the County Gaol, several churches, many
workshops, the poorhouse, the railway station, and dwell-
ings too numerous to be counted. The Strangewaies'
lands (now Earl Ducie's) are bounded by the Earl of
Derby's, the division being indicated by lettered boun-
dary stones. A line of demarcation is further drawn by
the nomenclature of the neighbouring streets — Derby,
Stanley, and Knowsley Streets dividing the honours with
Great Ducie and Moreton Streets, supplemented by Ducie
Bridge.
After the decadence or departure of its nobler families, —
the Strangewaies, the Hartleys, the Reynoldses,— the Hall
had various owners of less social distinction, the most
popular being Lieutenant-Colonel Hanson. During his
occupancy, in the opening years of the present century,
the Park was frequently used by the members of his rifle
corps for the exercise and improvement of their military
talents. Whilst thus practising, in the summer of 1805,
a fatal accident occurred. Two young gentlemen (cousins)
named Faulkner were firing at a target, when one, pass-
ing suddenly behind the centre, was shot by the other
through the body. Apart from his military honours,
20 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Colonel Hanson's favourite title was "The Weavers'
Friend." So partial was he to that class of artisans, that
he appended a silver shuttle to each side of his carriage.
In 1809, he addressed a large meeting of weavers, advo-
cating an advance in their wages, at which meeting a
looker-on was shot at his own door by a dragoon during
the dispersion of the crowd after the reading of the Riot
Act. Considering the dangerous aspect of affairs, the
fatality might have been greater. Here were present all
the elepients of mischief \yhich ten years later rendered
Peterloo notorious. Confronting and partly surrounding
the \yeavers and their friend were the boroughreeve, the
magistrates, the special constables, the runners (headed
by the much-dreaded Joseph Nadin), supported by the
soldiers, both cavalry and infantry. Ultimately the
workmen withdrew from the ground without resisting,
and the authorities exercised more forbearance than at
Peterloo, — of which figld it was the evident precursor,
the shadow of the coming event. The scene was "St
George's Field," aiid an outline plan of the district reveals
some curious points. The Colonel (or rather Mr Hanson,
as he had previously resigned his commission) delivered
his speech on horseback in Swan Street, and the thor-
oughfare on his left hand is thus marked— "St George's
Road (or Back Lane). To Rochdale."
With the exception of a few dwellings near Newton
Lane, labelled Five Houses, Pump Street, Lee Street,
the ground appears a literal uncovered "Field" as far
as St George's Church, which was usually designated St
George's-in-the-Fields. A little way beyond figured the
old coal-mine. If the query be put forth—" What of those
Strangeways Hall. 2 1
fields laow ? " a conclusive though silent answer might be
found in the list of voters (eleven thousand, no less) for St
Michael's Ward. Fields of commercial enterprise they
have become, producing flowers of peculiar rhetoric, while
the blades are other, and somewhat keener, than blades
of grass. Even the church has succumbed to railway-
exigencies. All this change, metamorphose, revolution,
has taken place within sixty years.
So much were the authorities of the town displeased
with the proceedings of Colonel Hanson in favour of the
congregated workmen, that at the ensuing Lancaster
Assizes he was indicted for conspiracy, and sentenced to
six months' imprisonment in the King's Bench, in addi-
tion to a penalty of one hundred pounds. Soon after his
liberation thirty-two thousand sons of the loom subscribed
one penny each for the purchase of an elegant gold cup,
which was presented to him at Strangeways Hall. This
trophy was dearly earned by Mr Hanson : the imprison-
ment he had suffered generated a disease of which he died,
at the early age of thirty-seven, within two years of the
date of his release. A very lengthy and imposing funeral
procession accompanied his remains from Strangeways to
the Unitarian Chapel (an ivymantled, plain brick struc-
ture) at Stand, in Pilkington, where the interment took
place, in September 181 1. The most striking ornament
of his coffin was a shuttle, or the resemblance thereof
The family tomb of the Hansons, neglected and decayed,
disappeared from the graveyard about two years ago.
Fortunately Mr Owen had previously copied its inscrip-
tions, engraven on marble slabs, adorning the four sides
of a square altar-tomb : —
2 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
" William Hanson, of Manchester, died
December i, 1798, aged 69 years."
" Joseph Hanson, son of William Hanson,
Of Manchester, died September 3, 181 1,
Aged 37 years."
" Elizabeth Hanson, wife of Edward Hanson,
Of Manchester, died March i, 1823,
Aged 35 years."
" Mary Hanson, wife of William Hanson,
Of Manchester, died March 12, 1822,
Aged 72 years."
The entrance to the vault is still indicated, and at a
little distance appears a flat stone bearing older dates,
thus carrying backward the family history : —
" In memory of Elizabeth, wife of William Hanson,
who died August ye 29, 1769, aged 32. James, his
son, who died May 3, 1787, aged 2 years and 6 months.
Elizabeth, his daughter, who died November iB, 1787,
aged 8 months. William, their son, who died March 3 1 ,
1 79 1, aged 13 years."
A portrait of the Weavers' Friend, prefixed to his
memoir, represents him with a scroll, labelled " Weavers'
Petition," in his hand, while upon his breast appears a
conspicuous scarf-pin, taking the form of a shuttle. The
Colonel's father was a prosperous merchant, trading in
Cannon Street.
We have not alluded to Colonel Hanson's presentation
at court, " when George the Third was King," nor to
another presentation scene which enlivened St Ann's
Square, when a splendid sword, pike, and pistols were
given to him by the officers of his regiment ; neither have
Strangeways Hall.
we mentioned his "meet" with Mr Philips upon Kersal
Moor. These prominent incidents in his eventful career
have been treated in detail elsewhere.
Surely there would be a popular ballad — a free-and-
easy melody — to celebrate the glories, or mourn the
demise, of this Manchester " man of the people." It
were strange indeed if the thirty- two thousand weavers
could not furnish one grateful minstrel to weave a lament
for the martyred hero of the shuttle. If such poetic
tribute was said or sung to our listening and admiring
parents, can any reader of these Memorials supply a copy
of the forgotten verses 1
Upon the interior walls of Stand Chapel appear several
monumental tablets, duly inscribed. Three of those
inscriptions, interesting to Manchester people, may be
suitably appended here : —
" In memory of Robert Philips, of the Park, in this
township, who died March 14th, 1844, aged 83 years;
whose remains, as also those of Ann, his wife, who
died March 12th, 1830, aged 57 years, are deposited
in the family vault beneath this Chapel."
" In memory of Anna Maria, wife of Robert Need-
ham Philips, of the Park, in this township, who
died on the 2d of April 1850, aged 32 years; whose
remains, as also those of Anna Maria, her daughter,
who died on the 24th of April 1850, aged I month,
are deposited in the family vault beneath this
Chapel."
" Sacred to the memory of Elizabeth Leigh Philips,
daughter of Robert and Ann Philips, who died
May 8th, 1824, aged 15 years. Also, of her twin
sister, Jessy Ann, who survived 6 months only, and
was interred at Snitterfield, Warwickshire."
24 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
" Then let us timely for our flight prepare,
And form the soul for her divine abode ;
Obey the call, and trust the Leader's care
To bring us safe through virtue's path to God."
CHAPTER III.
LONG MILLGATB AND RED BANK.
' ' Then deawn Lung Millgate we did steer. "
A. Wilson.
Z'"* AN the history of a town be better written than in the
^-^ stories of its principal streets — the scenes of its in-
teresting events, the homesteads of its bygone worthies .'
In one of a series of articles appearing in the Guardian
during the year 1864, entitled "Manchester in Holiday
Dress," was presented a brief history of Long Millgate,
To that account sundry points of information and expe-
rience may now be added, completing the subject. To
citizens familiar with the locality it scarcely need be told
that, for most useful or ornamental purposes, this street —
ruthlessly cut into many pieces — has been virtually dead
several years, only requiring to be put decently out of
sight. Yet such suitable interment is surrounded by
difficulties, as the city architects and surveyors can
affirm. Devise their new roads as skilfully as they may,
there are usually unseemly corners to the front, and un-
sightly blocks in the rear, which mock their utmost
ability; and prove that art is still a mere baby in the
arms of our perfect mother — Nature. To this rule Long
Millgate forms no exception. Lying thus lifeless (when
26 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
compared with its former jovial selQ and unburied, a few-
facts scattered over its remains may serve instead of
flowers to keep its memory sweet, if not verdant. Some
far-seeing people predict a revival of life and prosperity
to the street, chiefly through the medium of the adjacent
railway station, the enlarged Grammar School, or the
more distant Assize Courts ; but we are not very san-
guine as regards such resurrection. When Ichabod is
plainly written upon a devoted place, its glories seldom
return.
Our review may as well commence at the site of the
Old Apple-Market, at the corner of Fennel Street, not
forgetting the attractive tavern-sign of an apple-tree in
full bearing, which formerly met the view at this point.
Everything surrounding the fruit area has been modern-
ised, even to the church, save and except the remnant of
antiquity shown in our woodcut.
One of the earliest names we have encountered in
immediate connection with this street is that of " Richard
of the Mylnegate," anno 1 342. The next in point of time
runs thus: — "1596, October i. — William, sonne of Ellize
ffarrar, drowned at Mylne Brig."
The Court Leet book of 1583 notifies the sale of a- bur-
gage in the Mylnegate, with the common oven belonging
thereto, certain rent and service being due to the lord of
the manor. It is more than likely that this public oven
gave name to Bakehouse Court, still existent.
Amongst the notables once residing in Long Millgate
may be named Mr Charles Lawson, whose connection with
the Free Grammar School, beginning as usher, and ending
as high master, continued during the long period of fifty-
Long Millgate. ■ 27
eight years. As a premier dominie he made his mark,
which is still visible, and will not be soon eradicated.
One of his rhyming scholars has designated him "Mill-
gate's flogging Turk." De Quincey, likewise, remembered
him with a bitter feeling, toned down in his later writings ;
but the majority of Mr Lawson's pupils regarded him
with warm approval. Mr Lawson's interesting mansion
is represented in our title-page vignette. The date of its
removal was 1835 > its site being now covered by the
new Grammar School. Finding the printed authorities
at variance touching Mr Lawson's age and time of de-
cease, we have taken counsel with the original Collegiate
register: — "1807, April 27. — Buried, Charles Lawson, Esq.,
aged 79. In the choir. Cause of death, Old age." Referring
to his declining years, the mentor has been described by
another of his scholars as " a nice old gentleman, and
remarkably quiet, with a large bushy white wig and a
clerical hat."
Nearly opposite to Mr Lawson's pictorial dwelling, and
visible many years after that house and the worthy peda-
gogue had both disappeared, stood some heavy, ungainly
domiciles, which we passed and repassed during fifty
years without being fascinated by their outv/ard appear-
ance. In such cases, if love do not come at the first
sight, it seldom arrives at all; and somehow, although
their antiquity was apparent at a glance, it failed to
charm us.
The number of their years, or rather centuries, has been
variously put forth. Mr James Wheeler, in his well-
written commercial history of the town, states that Lord
de la Warre, in the reign of Edward the Third, brought to
28 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
England a number of Flemish weavers, and that some
of the ingenious strangers abode in the row here indi-
cated ; while another authority considers the buildings
were not older than the sixteenth century. The question
need not be mooted further, as the cluster was taken down
in the summer of 1872; and in thus preserving their
departed features we pay to them at least posthumous
respect. Latterly they had formed a house-and-shop
compromise, — a combination of business and privacy, —
embodying a wish for utility with little regard for orna-
ment. At the date of our present writing, their place is
still vacant, the ancient ground being as yet uncovered
by new erections.
Probably the oldest building remaining in our dilapi-
dated street is the Sun Inn and Poet's Corner, which has
been a well-conducted tavern as far back as its history
can be traced. But latterly, growing rakish in its dotage,
its good character as a public entertainer was forfeited,
and the license consequently withdrawn. More recently
the ancient hostelry wore a novel appearance, being
divided into two homely shops, one appealing to the
mind in the form of books, the other tempting our grosser
nature with cakes and sweetmeats. Alas for the Man-
chester Helicon, once the high temple of our Muses!
We have a pleasant remembrance of the Poet's Corner
when a real republic of letters (not a monarchical arrange-
ment of king, lords, and commons) were wont to assemble
within its walls.
The late Joseph Perrin, in his pleasing story of the
" Green Mantle," states that in his youth he paid several
visits, timidly and reverently, to the Sun Inn. With the
L ong Millgate. 2 9
building he expresses satisfaction ; but his disappoint-
ment was great when the poets of his imagination
were not to be found ; and he hints that the nectar
there inhaled was redolent of the mountain-dew. Per-
haps the bards resembled Thomson, in being "more fat
than bard beseems," rather than interestingly pale, and
leaden-eyed with much study, as Hood described Eugene
Aram. Evidently Master Perrin, forgetful of the proverb
touching appearances, was a believer in the magni-
ficent theory that the soul invariably chooses her own
meet tenement, never obscuring her pure radiant light
within a dim unwinsome lantern. Had Joseph Perrin
not met with a further disappointment, in his vain
search for health along the Cornwall coast, he might
have lived to qualify, in some measure, his poetical
anticipations.
Standing upon the steps of the Sun Inn, only the
narrow street divides us from Chetham's College, —
another structure of age and interest. In addition to the
noteless multitude who have received their early education
at this popular institution, several local authors have
been trained within its walls, and have left brief records
of their experience as young collegians. In this list
may be included Benjamin Stott, once our bookbinder-
poet, and now the forgotten holder in fief of a green
grave at Northenden.
Of Chetham's College we thought we had elsewhere
"said our say;" but its memories are so manifold, the
phases of thought suggested are so various, that the
last word concerning it can scarcely ever be written.
So far back as the year 1825 Benjamin Stott was
Memorials of Manchester Streets.
wearing the blue coat and cap peculiar to the place;
at which date another friend of ours became a candidate
for admission, but failed to secure the scholarship. It
was the opinion of his mother that four or five years'
tuition at college, with a collegiate residence in addition
thereto, would prove very advantageous to her eldest
son ; consequently her attention became riveted on the
valuable institution founded by Humphrey Chetham' in
the year of grace 165 1, for the education, maintenance,
and apprenticeship of boys requiring a start in life. On
the election-day in question, Easter Monday, the sun
shone with a brightness that seemed propitious as they
proceeded to the spacious yard in front of the College.
The scene of action was thronged with people from
various parts of the county, to many of whom, as to
the said mother and son, the day was all-important, but
by far the greater number had congregated to gaze with
minor interest on the proceedings, and to return with
the gratification of merely an idle curiosity. Of course
the influx of country visitors made a harvest for the
neighbouring taverns, of which there was no lack. A
merry peal of restless feet enlivened the Ring o' Bells ;
the Pack Horse found comfort under his heavy burden ;
the Black-a-Moor's Head looked radiant in the holiday
sunshine ; and the Flying Horse expanded his gilded
wings. Even the College Inn was remembered, while
inspecting the gloomy and discarded dungeon at its
side. The blue-coated inmates of the institution, mingling
with the crowd, were briskly disposing of their college-
balls and other contrivances of their leisure hours.
The present race of young collegians may pay more
Long Mitigate. 3 1
regard to the proprieties, — may be more circumspect
in their general behaviour, — but the last generation was
certainly merrier, with a greater profusion of pocket-
money to boot.
When the election commenced, the candidates and their
guardians were ranged against an outer wall, and loudly
summoned in turn to undergo examination in the interior.
After two or three hours of anxious suspense, our friend's
ticket, missing all the prizes, resulted in a blank, his
mother's visions of student life being thus dispersed well-
nigh as soon as formed.
Long after that contest, and when the defeat had grown
into an old remembrance, our friend paid the first of many
visits to the Chetham Library. Book in hand, he entered
the antique reading-room, — the favourite resort of our
local writers and antiquaries, grateful records of whose
visits are scattered through divers volumes and bygone
magazines. The portrait of the founder (with which all
Mancestrians are so familiar) hung, as it still hangs, on
the carved and gilded mantel, appropriately surrounded
by the pictures of other Lancashire worthies. About a
dozen persons were seated at their ease, some reading
near the glowing and ample fire, while others were writing
upon quaint desks and tables, or studying near the carved
cabinets. He endeavoured to follow their example in a
snug recess, with painted glass windows, that overlooked
the playground. But his mind would not rest with his
book ; his eyes wandered to the novelties around him, and
his thoughts were as travellers with many memories.
Of the few benevolent foundations whose present work-
ings would gratify the founders, Chetham's Hospital and
32 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Library are entitled to rank with the foremost. Further,
the lowly old edifice may be justly prized for its romantic
and historical associations. To the thoughtful gazer it
may serve as a touchstone of reverie, and to the bard as
his spirit of song.
In this old-fashioned retreat, if anywhere, a disliker of
change might hope for exemption from its innovations.
In most particulars the ancient feeling and practice have
been preserved, but the election-day presents an altered
scene. It is no longer an outdoor display, attracting a
motley concourse of people or a colony of trading boys.
As they arrive, the applicants are now accommodated
with seats in the building, being quietly summoned to the
council-charriber in due order. Of tlie once- famous college-
balls, worked purses, and bijauterie of beads, not a vestige
remains. Of the outer world, now and then an inquisitive
loiterer will stand peering at the street entrance ; but he
soon pursues his business track, for nothing is to be seen
except a decayed widow leading her little son in silence to
his trial, or a stately feoffee, who, pacing leisurely up the
yard, proceeds to discuss the merits of the candidates,
and the more agreeable virtues of the customary election-
dinner.
Of the various parties who aim at Chetham College and
miss their mark, some are content to bide their time until
another election gives them an opportunity of conquering
their fate, or of submitting once more to its adverse decree ;
others, with less patience, seek elsewhere for scholarships
of minor value.
For further memorials of the worthy and fortunate
Humphrey, the reader may wisely refer to the Appendix
Long Miilgate. 33
to the present volume. Therein Mr Crossley discourses
eloquently and at large upon the manifold peculiarities of
the rare Chetham Library ; whilst Mr Croston, turning his
active foot from the '' Peak," and leaving the home of
Florence Nightingale to its sweet seclusion, has brought
his practised pen to bear in summarising the history of
Manchester and its noblest benefactors. His notice of
Humphrey Chetham is accompanied by an interesting
view of that worthy's birthplace — Crumpsall Hall. Of
this hall and its destiny we have been favoured with
further information by a friendly resident of Cheethara
Hill village — Mr Robert Wood. We quote from one of
Mr Wood's occasional contributions to the literature of
the district : —
" The house in which he was born was situated at the
front of Bank Villas, in the garden formed by the junction
of Humphrey Street with the Crescent Road, and perhaps
two hundred yards from the coach-office, Cheetham Hill.
It was a substantial, oak-framed building, without any
pretensions to beauty, and was perhaps built about the
time of Henry the Seventh.
" There was no brick or stone used in its construction,
except in the foundations, the chimneys, and the kitchen
gable, but the timbers were of the most massive kind, and
even the stair-steps were made of solid blocks of oak, and
the hand-rail was almost as large as an ordinary beam in
these degenerate days of building.
"Most houses of that date had what was called a priest's
hole, or a secret hiding-place, where a Roman Catholic
family in Queen Elizabeth's time would conceal a priest,
or a Protestant family would hide their valuables in unset-
c
34 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
tied times, or even a friend who may have fallen under the
displeasure of the authorities.
" This house was no exception to the rule, and when it
was being taken down, a secret stairway was discovered in
the kitchen gable, which led to a small chamber in the
roof. This stairway and chamber were quite unknown for
several generations past.
"Humphrey's oldest brother, James, succeeded his father
as the owner and occupier of the house, and it remained in
the hands of his family for two or three generations. It
then came into the hands of a family named Barlow, pro-
bably the descendants of Alexander Barlow, from Barlow's
Court, who was one of the trustees of Humphrey Chetham's
will ; and about one hundred and twenty years ago there
was a gentleman named Thomas Barlow living at the
house, and owning a considerable portion of the land in
the neighbourhood. After his time the property appears
to have been divided and subdivided among his descen-
dants, and the only property now remaining in the family
is the Bird-in-Hand public-house, but the old house was
occupied by the Barlow family till it was pulled down.
"About fifty years ago the house was so ruinous that it
was taken down to make room for the present Bank Villas ;
and the ground is so levelled and altered, that no one
would suspect that ever a house of such note had been
standing so long in that situation."
Adjacent to the College Gate lived and died the clerical
original, Joshua Brookes. His house, situated next door
to the primitive Grammar School, was taken down about
Christmas 1873. The upright male figure represented in
our engraving is standing at Mr Brookes's iron gate.
ir
pC-^^rtVt^^^^^TV^V f^ >^>f^ n-l - lliL_n
36 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
six rooms on each floor, and with a large garden attached.
A much larger mansion, boasting three names, was thus
announced for disposal in Whitworth's Manchester Maga-
zine for i'j£^'j-df% : — " Situate in the Milngate, Old Greave
Hall, or Langley Hall, or Culcheth Hall, converted into
several dwellings, with garden and ten acres of land." As
a printed authority places this old mansion in the neigh-
bourhood of Newton Lane, Mr Whitworth's unique adver-
tisement may serve to correct the small error.* A corrobo-
rative entry may be read in the parochial register : — " 1616,
Julie 2. — Robert Langley, of y' Mylngate, gent, buried."
Mr Langley, an active person in his day, was appointed
by his fellow-townsmen in 1578 as boroughreeve. After-
ward, he removed two stiles in Assheley Fields (now
Ashley Lane), but was ordered by the Court Leet to
restore them to their accustomed places. On the other
handj he cited Mr Thomas Strangewaies for obstructing
the ancient footpath through Walker's Croft to Stony
" Knowles," the said footpath leading usefully to Mr
Langley's mill and tanpits on the bank of the Irk.
In 1 76 1 (the name of the thoroughfare being then varied
to the present mode of spelling), another large house, with
garden and stable attached, was advertised to be sold or
let. The last important family residing in Long Millgate
were the Haworths, — a name preserved to us until very
recently by " Haworth's Gates," a narrow passage which
was stopped up and enclosed by order of the City Council
in September 1868. It was at this point that Alexander
Wilson sketched, in the year 1821, the Lancashire Rush-
* There was a Culcheth Hall near Warrington, another at Newton Heath.
Long Millgate. 37
bearing which forms the frontispiece to the present volume.
The canvas, as will be observed, is studded with character-
istic figures, inclusive of the artist himself (his bandaged
foot requiring temporary crutches), the Rev. Joshua
Brookes, and Gentleman Cooper, the tall, enthusiastic
pedestrian who walked to Doncaster and home again,
during forty successive years, for the pleasure of witness-
ing the exciting race for the St Leger stakes. In addi-
tion to these, there is Mr John Ogden, the grocer, vig-
netted through his shop window, and a full-length portly
boniface in the centre, Mr Henry Slater, of the Bay Horse
Tavern.
Haworth's Gates led originally to the garden, orchard,
and recreation fields at the rear of the building, and upon
the site of the present Balloon Street.
There bloomed the latest flowers, if not the latest plots
of green sward, known to Long Millgate. It is certain
those rural attributes were visible in 1782, when the Man-
chester Military Association were here trained to the use
of arms; and likewise in 1785, when the elder Sadler
twice ascended from the spot in the first English balloon.
A few notes of family history will lend variety to our
narrative. In 1759 Mr Abraham Haworth died "at his
house in Milngate." The name previously occurs in the
baptismal registers of 1699, 1701, and 1703. Further
information is afforded by a lengthy inscription on a flat
stone within, the Cathedral : the principal portion is here
transcribed : —
" Here lie the remains of Abraham Haworth, Merch*-
in Manchester, obit July 26, 1759, aged 76. Sarah,
his wife, obit May 27th, 17 19, aged 44. John
38 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Haworth, Esq'- departed this life Dec*"- 4, 1786,
aged 74. Mary, wife of John Haworth, Esq'-
dau"- to Richard Bagshaw, Esq'- of Oakes, in
Derbyshire, who died Jan^- 13, I77S, aged 62."
During the summer of the latter year a daughter of Mr
John Haworth was married to the Hon. Edward Percival,
brother to the Eari of Egmont; and, six years subse-
quently, another daughter of his was united to Mr Law-
rence Peel. In 1794, the palisaded home of the Haworths,
having passed into other hands, was conducted as an inn,
the Manchester Arms, which sign is still retained. On
the^ ceiling of a shop nearly opposite to this inn might
be seen, until very lately, the representations of an Eagle
and Child, and Three Legs of Man, in oval compartments
of plaster, besides a border of fruit and flowers, also in
plaster. Similar ornaments, we believe, decorated the ceil-
ings of the upper rooms. No definite reason can now be
given for these unusual embellishments, but it is surmised,
that the house has been in some way connected with the
Derby family. This is probable enough, as, in addition to
the gentry already mentioned, our registers prove the resi-
dence in "ye Mylnegate" of branches of the Mosleys and
the Leighs of High Leigh during the three centuries last
past.*
Just a century ago, two announcements appeared in.
which reference was made to the Rood's Gutter, or Gutter
of the Cross, in Long Millgate. Here was an antiquarian
* The question is thus set at rest by HoUingworth : — "Anno 1572, by
inquisition vppon oath it was allso found that the Earle of Derby had
purchased of the Prince, Over Allport, and three burgages in the Milnegate
and Fenelestreete, being chauntry lands."
Long Millgate. 39
mystery to which no key could be found, until one day pur
local Jonathan Oldbuck, while watching the progress of
some excavations near Barlow's Yard, discovered the base
of a cross, and so the problem was to a certain extent
solved. The shaft had vanished so long ago that no trace
of it was remembered ; but the owner of the ground re-
moved the base to his garden. Barlow's Cross is repeat-
edly mentioned in the early volumes of our parish register.
At the outlet of the Rood's Gutter, on the bank of the Irk,
there was, in 1770, a small rookery, — an item of informa-
tion given on the authority of Aston.
A sad accident occurred hereabouts • in July 1834.
Three shops, situated at the corner of Ducie Bridge,
opposite to the Crown and Shuttle, suddenly fell, killing
two boys and a girl.
On the 17th of November 1829 — being Dirt Fair Day —
a young Millgateer, named Thomas Foster, was acciden-
tally shot on Blackfriars Bridge, while lingering a moment
to witness a quarrel. The offender, a commission agent,
was committed to Lancaster Castle on a charge of wilful
murder. At the Assizes next ensuing, the jury returned a
verdict of not guilty.
About the centre of the Millgate, and near to the
residence of the Wilsons who wrote the dialectic songs,
dwelt one of our local artists, George Hayes. Although
born at Dighton, near Huddersfield, about the year 1820,
the embryo painter was brought hither in childhood, and
here his parents remained to the close of their lengthened
existence. The exigencies of his art may have bound Mr
Hayes to distant and more picturesque scenes, yet family
ties have retained him as a frequent visitor to this locality.
40 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
A well-known resident of this street during several
years was Richard Baines, composer and singer of comic
ballads, and boon companion in general. His musical
rhymes were published in 1844, under the title of "The
Budget of Comicalities." Seven years later appeared a
second edition. One of these humorous strains may be
selected as a fair example of his cantering style, which
never passed the comprehension of the multitude. It was
a popular favourite, set to music by a local composer of
note ; and whenever, like Dr Watts, Baines took his walks
abroad, he had the pleasure of hearing his song whistled .
aloud or chaunted in hearty chorus.
MANCHESTER'S IMPROVING DAILY.
" In Manchester, this famous town,
What great improvements have been made, sirs ;
In fifty years 'tis mighty grown,
All owing to success in trade, sirs ;
For see what mighty buildings rising.
To all beholders how surprising ;
The plough and harrow are now forgot, sirs,
'Tis coals and cotton boil the pot, sirs.
Sing Ned, sing Joe, and Frank so gaily,
Manchester's improving daily.
" A few years since some cotton spinners
Settled here as new beginners ;
Small rooms they filled with mules and jennies.
Which spun their shillings soon to guineas ;
And now in coaches grand they drive, sirs,
With livery servants all alive, sirs ;
Observe that horse, that pretty wheeler,
'Tis called from Bess, The Bonny Reeler.
L ong Millgate. 4 1
" Our cotton fame spread far and near,
And crowds of people soon came here,
To devil-tent, and spin, and card,
And earn their bread by labour hard ;
The Paddies they thronged across the water.
To sell their pigs and carry mortar ;
And many a dandy in swell togs, sirs,
Came here in boots that now wears clogs, sirs.
" In our old Church, when Joshua Brookes
Had care of aU the keys and books,
And Patten Nat o'er graves so narrow
Wheeled a consecrated barrow ; *
In those good days, whoe'er could dream
That parsons now would preach by steam ?
Besides, they do such dandies grow, then
You only in the pulpit know them.
" In course of time the bells will ring
Got up by steam, so neat the thing ;
And as man is cut down like a flower,
They'll scheme to bury him by power !
* Of " Patten Nat " we find a brief record in our Directory dated 1788 : —
"Nathan Wood, patten maker, Hanging Bridge." The scrap-book at
Chetham's Library contains his full-length portrait, slightly caricatured.
Beneath the picture appear the following random lines : —
** Patten Nat is grown so fat
That he can hardly walk ;
And he's come here to drink strong beer.
And hear those puppies talk."
An anecdote of Nathan, though far from new, may be worth repeating, the
latest version being preferred for its brevity : — Having occasion to use a
barrow, he went to borrow one belonging to the church. Taking a near cut,
on his return, over the gravestones, instead of keeping to the path, he
received a smart blow from behind, given by the eccentric Joshua Brookes,
and accompanied by the words, " How dare you wheel that barrow over con-
secrated ground ? " Nat answered, "I thought the barrow was consecrated
and allj as I borrowed it from the sexton ! " Nathan Wood died in 1804, of
consumption, at the age of fifty-three.
42 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
For steam it has such wonders wrought,
And things to such perfection brought,
We chance may see, if they carry the farce on,
A metal church and cast-iron parson.
" We've iron lords and cotton majors,
And we have lots of spies and gangers ;
There's plenty, too, of daily bread.
But the teeth are taxed that are in your head ;
We've fops and swells not worth a farthing,
And hundreds, too, there are, that's starving ;
Just see our hungry hand-loom weavers, .
Their hair, like hay, grows through their beavers.
" There's one thing more I needs must mention.
It is that wonderful invention
The railway, where you go by power,
At the rate of thirty miles an hour ;
Where waggons go without a team.
And coaches, too, that fly by steam ;
They say it does provisions cheapen,
In fish, pigs' heads, and Irish bacon.
Sing Ned, sing Joe, and Frank so gaily,
Manchester's improving daily."
It will be seen that Baines's song, resembling many-
successful singing ditties, will not bear the test of critical
reading. We were tempted to a little abbreviation in
certain parts, but there is just now such a loud outcry
against adulterations and mutilations of all kinds, that we
retain the original version as the safest course.
In his preface, "The Lancashire Poet," as Mr Baines
confidently styled himself, thus addressed the public : —
"The pleasure of pleasing has ever been a gratifying
sensation to me, through a long, and, I may say, success-
Long Mitigate. 43
ful career as a comic singer ; and it is this feeling that has
induced me to publish this collection of songs. There is
another reason ; — many of my brother professional singers
have tauntingly said, that I dare not publish my songs —
fearing that others would sing them better than myself.
But this I do not believe ; for with the productions here
offered to the public I have amused thousands of laugh-
ter-loving people, and never in any one instance failed.
There may be errors found in this collection — perhaps too
many to meet the eye of the literary critic ; but let it be
remembered I am but a self-taught child of Nature, and
many, or most of these songs have been written amidst
the privations, buffetings, and storms of a life of trouble ;
and as it has been the practice of parties, for years past,
to apply to me for written copies, which was troublesome
to me and expensive to them, I thought the best plan
would be to publish them in a cheap edition, so that the
wishes of my numerous friends may be gratified."
Richard Baines died about twenty-two years ago, and
was buried in a nameless grave at the lower end of Har-
purhey Cemetery. He had passed to the shady side of
sixty. Nameless, and even flowerless, though his grave
may be, he has there found the sweet forgetfulness of
sorrow — the mystical waters of oblivion — for which Zadok
so earnestly sought
At the northern extremity of Long Millgate, in Red
Bank, we witnessed, many years ago, the last specimen
of bull-baiting exhibited in this part of England. The
cruel sport was considered an attractive addition to the
usual programme of the wakes — surpassing the charms of
the sack-race, the smock-steeplechase, the bolting of the
44 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
hot porridge, the swarming of the greasy pole, or the
genuine Tim Bobbin feat of grinning through a horse-
collar. The bull, during one of his wild plunges, broke
loose, and tossed some of his tormentors, Sancho Panza
hke, into the air. Although no friendly blanket inter-
vened, as at the Spanish inn, there occurred no serious
mishap.
In our Directory for 1794, we read of "Phoebe Fletcher,
Old Iron Foundery, 2 Foundery Lane, Red Bank." This
lane, converted to a street, is familiar enough; but the
foundry whence the name was derived has vanished so
long ago that its memory is faded away, and some persons
may be curious to know the date of its existence. The
original proprietor, Mr John Fletcher, died in 1785.
During many years towards the close of the last and
the beginning of the present century, the Manchester race-
list, sometimes profusely illustrated with small character-
istic cuts, was printed in Long Millgate by John Pratt.
One of the sons of this worthy typographer afterwards
made the family name familiar to our townsmen by the
publication of moral, religious, and miscellaneous litera-
ture. During his long career, Mr Joseph Pratt printed
and partly edited a variety of serial works, inclusive of
"The Scrap-Book" and "The Protestant Witness." So
widely had he diverged from his father's early course as
a printer of race-lists, that he would not, in his later years,
set-up or circulate any matter of an immoral or uncon-
stitutional tendency. Such conscientious trading, though
praiseworthy in the highest degree, prevented his rising
in the world. As a rule, the public, bearing a strong
resemblance to a spoiled child, does not feel grateful to
Long Millgate. 45
its improvers. Give it sugar, it will caress you ; shake
the rod at its naughtiness, and soon, with a frown, it will
shrink away. Mr Joseph Pratt died in November 1859,
after an illness which confined him to his room several
months. He had passed the allotted term of threescore
years and ten.
Many persons will be surprised to hear that Long
Millgate extends from the Cathedral at Manchester
even unto the border of Scotland. Yet such is the fact,
literally, though not virtually. The elongated street
terminates on the south bank of the Irk, where the turbid
stream is spanned by Scotland Bridge, and upon the
northern side of the river lies a region dedicated to the
thistle and the broom. Touching the origin of its singular
nomenclature we have no information to offer. Did the
Picts and Scots found a colony here while harassing the
natives ? or did Prince Charlie pitch a tent for his High-
landers, christening the place Scotland in order to make
his friends feel more at home ? Neither Hume nor
Robertson deigns to enlighten us on this dark point. No
claymores have been dug up within the range of our
recollection, and the only philibegs discovered belong to
the wandering pipers. Our earliest fact by way of
elucidation is of a simple domestic nature. In 1762 a
messuage, divided into two dwellings, "in Manchester, at
a place called Scotland," was advertised to be let, at a
yearly rental of ten guineas. Before emerging from the
Scottish difficulty, and while surveying our chart in quest
of the next object of interest, we find that only a narrow
strait — the Irk — divides us from Gibraltar. The globe
seems to have got out of gear hereabouts : possibly Atlas
46 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
let it slip from his brawny shoulders. At all events, the
geographical calculation is rendered as perplexing as the
counting of Dundreary's fingers. There is nothing to
explain the presence of the Spanish headland, or rather
of its name, in this back settlement. So we turn from the
confusion of such foreign affairs, and gladly surmount the
plain English acclivity termed Red Bank.
The origin of a well-known taverh-sign upon this
mount is shown in the Directory of 1797 — "George
Metcalf, florist and victualler, Flower Pott, 6 Red Bank."
Prior to that date the sign was the Wheat Sheaf.
Of the dwellers — be they gentle or simple — in Red Bank
or in Long Millgate, few have established a better claim
to remembrance than Job Hindley. " Many a year," as
we may truly echo, " is in its grave " since the writer of
this note first met Job. It was in the rainless summer of
1826, at which distant date the loss of his arm was a new
misfortune. He continued to reside in the same neighbour-
hood until 1872, when he removed to Southport for the
benefit of his health. " Well done, Job," he might have
exclaimed, in the words of John Bannister on quitting the
stage ; " half a century is not bad." In Job's case a sud-
den misfortune resulted in a permanent blessing. Had no
accident befallen him in youth, he would probably have
passed through life as one of the countless everyday
workers, who merely eat, drink, and make merry, leaving
the world neither better nor worse than they found it.
But the loss of his right arm (while working for a firm of
calenderers in Tib Street) forcing him from his original
trade, he then adopted a new and more lucrative line of
business — the dressing of substantial tripe, the preparation
Long Millgale. ■ 47
of nutritious cowheel. This course he pursued with sin-
gular success, until at length he chose to retire upon his
gains. Tact and energy in the accumulation of his means
have been supplemented by wisdom and goodness in the
distribution thereof. Finding himself in the possession of
a thousand pounds which he could spare, he presented that
sum-(reserving'the interest) to the Manchester Royal Infir-
mary, in return for important services rendered gratui-
tously in his youth. By this timely act of benevolence he
secured while living the good-will and warm eulogies of
his fellows, which posthumous donors receive upon their
tombstones only. Subsequently, with an additional five
hundred pounds, he presented a lifeboat to the Royal
National Lifeboat Institution, the station assigned to it
being Seaton Carew, Durham. These judicious presents
were publicly acknowledged in the Town Hall of his native
city on Friday, December 19, 1873. Taken in its entirety,
that was a proud day for the residents of Red Bank and
Long Millgate — an honest pride, which was manifested as
they stood at their doors or gazed from their windows.
As " The Job Hindley " lifeboat was drawn triumphantly
along, his neighbours waved their hands and raised their
cheering voices. The display was for Job, though not
solely ; the triumph was his, but not alone. As the
colours waved upon the masts, and the music played,
announcing the coming of the conquering hero, we shared
the glow of his " blushing honours." Notwithstanding his
prosperity and local fame, Job remains simple and unas-
suming, easy and natural, in every way. Assuredly, he
has never lived at Landes, where the people move mostly
upon stilts, and where, mayhap, the stilts are sometimes
48 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
gilded. We may hope the milder atmosphere of the Meols
will preserve him in health and usefulnesss to a venerable
age ; but, depart when he may, Job Hindley has carved
his epitaph in the hearts of his townsmen, and it will be
sufficient for his marine friends to write his obituary, like
Timon's, in the sands of the seashore.
jr.
Thus far had we written one month ago, little anticipat-
ing that in so brief a space of time we should read our
" auld neibor's " name upon his coffin-plate, within a deep
vault, at Cheetham Hill Cemetery. A throng of sympa-
thisers flocked, unbidden, to pay their last respects to his
memory. The day was beautifully fine for March ; and
after the interment of Job, many lingered with the lettered
stones around, drawing each other's attention to the
rapidly-increasing number of inscriptions, and feeling,
meanwhile, that the generation to which we truly belonged
lay at our feet, their places in the world being filled by a
younger race, with whom we hold little in common. The
youthful look hopefully before them, while the elders look
regretfully behind. In bidding farewell to Job Hindley,
we would suggest for his epitaph the concluding verse of
the " Burial Song for a Good Man," written by the Rev.
William Gaskell : —
" Huts where poor men sat distressed,
Homes where death had darkly passed,
Beds where suffering breathed its last, —
These he sought, and soothed, and blessed.
" Hoping, trusting, lay him down !
Many in the realms above
Look for him with eyes of love,
Wreathing his immortal crown ! "
Long Millgate. 49
The remains of Mr Hindley, who died at Southport, rest
in the same vault where those of his wife were deposited
wellnigh twenty years before. The words upon his coffin-
plate were, "Job Hindley, died i8th March 1874, "aged 6Z
years." Just prior to his decease he had the gratification
of hearing that his lifeboat, in its first exploit at sea, had
been the means of rescuing eleven sailors, and he promptly
forwarded five pounds to be divided amongst the crew.
In addition to private legacies, Mr Hindley left by his will
nearly three thousand pounds to public charities, as thus —
Manchester Infirmary, one thousand pounds ; Barnes Con-
valescent Home, five hundred pounds ; St Mary's Hospi-
tal, three hundred and fifty pounds ; Eye Hospital, three
hundred and fifty pounds ; Lock Hospital, two hundred
and fifty pounds ; Deaf and Dumb Institution, Old Traf-
ford, two hundred and fifty pounds ; Southport Convales-
cent Hospital, two hundred and fifty pounds.
D
CHAPTER IV.
SMITHFIELD MARKET AND ITS VICINITY.
" At a bookseller's stall
I was sure to call
In my younger days,"
Anon.
T T will be our endeavour, throughout this series of
-■- personal recollections — variegated, strengthened, and
cemented by historical data — to exhibit as much of the
show and as little of the showman as possible. We have
frequently, from childhood to within a recent date,
witnessed the gambols of Punch and Judy ; and those
early and abiding favourites have taught us such service-
able lesson. Yet once, yea, twice, in our time we have
seen the head belonging to the oracular voice peering
above the sacred curtain; and the other day, almost as
yesterday, the oracle issued forth bodily, bearing in his
hand the box which had gathered in its round a solitary
penny, and he appealed to his audience, if it were an
English audience, to show an English sense of justice.
He upbraided us for fostering foreign airs to the detriment
of native graces ; and reminded us, in conclusion, that he
had gladdened our childhood when we had nothing but
our smiles to bestow in return. But where are we wander-
Smithfield Market and its Vicinity. 5 1
ing, pray ? as an old man asked of a maiden in the arch
song of the archer Madame Vestris. Our present business
lies mainly with the bookworm feature of our city, and we
must not linger, howsoever lovingly, with Punch and Judy,
albeit they are far from being aliens in the streets of
Manchester. Latterly, we must admit, the queer auto-
matons seldom exhibit in the public ways for chance
recompense. Finding their reception grew colder, even in
the sunshine, they have wisely retreated to the warm wel-
come and certain payment of the casinos and the singing
galleries. The moral of our episode will be apparent. If
at any time we appear obtrusive, the exigency of our
position will be in fault, rather than any lack of innate
modesty.
So now to our book-hunting. "To poor lovers of
literature," observes a writer in the Quarterly Review,
"these bookstalls are as tables spread in a wilderness;"
and many a sympathetic spirit^ will echo the sentiment.
We have kindred feelings and memories of our own. One
afternoon, when business was not busy, and when the
golden number would have indicated all our years, we
strolled with our tonsorial governor through Smithfield
Market. The market was younger even than ourselves —
a mere baby in petticoats — presenting a very different
aspect to the huge bazaar, framed and glazed, which we are
now accustomed to see. It was opened to the public in May
1822. Entirely exposed to the elements, weather-beaten
in all directions, its sturdy infancy knew nothing of the
hothouse culture of its later summers. Avoiding statistics,
which may be safely confided to the official Page, to the
more substantial Folio, we continue our saunter. After
5 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
leisurely passing various heaps, stalls, and hampers con-
taining vegetables, fruit, and general farm-produce, we
came to a lowly collection of second-hand (and how many
hands beyond the second ?) books, pamphlets, prints, and
the like, arranged upon the stones. Being the first literary
or pictorial display we had seen, we eagerly stooped to
examine the store. Could this be called "Stooping
to Conquer .' " The pictures, though charming, were soon
despatched. The books, too, were abandoned in reason-
able time—- the sooner, as we knew them to be entirely
beyond our reach. But the periodicals proved an almost
endless source of pleasure and difficulty ; pleasure, in
poring over each article and woodcut, and in laying aside
for a second glance those that particularly pleased us ;
difficulty, in guarding our selection from being disturbed
by other hands ; and further, in weeding the flowers on
perceiving we had selected the major part of the dealer's
stock. " Friend after friend departed," as James Mont-
gomery sings, until a solitary copy of the Mirror remained
in our fingers. It was a supplementary number, dedicated,
to a description of the Arctic voyages of Captains Parry,
Ross, and Franklin. For this twopenny treasure wa
gladly paid, at half price, our only penny, and ratified our
maiden purchase in literature. We regret our inability to
record the name of this our first and most patient bib-
liopolist ; but doubtless he was an emulative William
Hutton, who began the bookselling business with one
pound's worth of "trash," and ended in affluent retire-
ment ; or a persevering William Chambers, who success-
fully "cultivated literature on a little oatmeal" and five
shillings. Yet the probabilities are against such favour-
Smithfield Market andits Vicinity. 53
able conclusions. Only at rare and distant intervals is the
world startled from its equanimity by some phenomenon of
wealth or of intellect emerging from the multitude. In the
lottery of life the capital prizes must of necessity be limited
to the fortunate few ; the vast crowd must content itself as
it best may with minor rewards or with positive blanks.
From the date of that first literary purchase we felt a
craving for copper. Mirrors, or Caskets, or Olios were
bought with every available coin, duly devoured, and
carefully preserved. Although these bygone periodi-
cals have long been invalided, they retain a certain
interest by the power of association. The Mirror con-
tinued to appear before the public until it became the
Tom Moody of weekly numbers, having been " in at the
death" of countless rivals. It succumbed at length to
the serial quartos. In numbers, as in craniums, size is
usually an index of power. The large pennyworths find
most favour with the multitude, and thus the literary
Goliaths almost invariably defeat the Davids.
Pursuing the system of miscellaneous purchase during
a series of years, we lessened the curious heaps that had
accumulated upon the shelves or counters of Jacob
Williamson and James Wroe, — not forgetting the numer-
ous stalls which used to line the footpath in Shudehill,
tended by James Weatherley, Elijah Ridings, and other
noteworthy booksellers. Of Jacob, his eccentricities, and
his antiquated corner, due mention has been made else-
where. Mr Wroe was an earnest and well-known reformer,
who kept a book and music shop in Great Ancoats Street
until the period of his death, in 1844. How well we
remember that shop, inside and out, together with its
54 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Saturday-evening sales by auction, — though these latter
attractions we could not attend, and knew them only by
report. At that epoch, Saturday night was the general
paytime, the popular marketing, when Smithfield and its
vicinity were seen in their throng and glory. On all such
evenings we, being in the public service, were busily
improving the race of men, freeing them from unbecoming
(h)airs, cleansing them from the stains and impurities of
the week ; in short, fitting them for the serener duties of
home and the Sabbath. Could any officer of health,
supported by his sanitary staff, be more useful in his way
as a regenerator .■' Mr Wroe, as already stated, auctioned
his books to others, not to us. But in his window we
found a perpetual feast of numbers, — a world at one
view, — life without dulness or commonplace. The Casket
and the Olio were spread over the panes to show the most
interesting pictures. How Collins the poet would have
rejoiced to see all his " Passions " in flower at the same
moment. Here was no slow preparation for action, no
tedious tuning of instruments before one could get any
music. The warriors were met in mortal combat — the
lovers in delicious repose. If one picture showed Jerry
Abershaw robbing the mail, in the next he was swinging
from the last gibbet erected in England. Lynch law was
beaten hollow. But the scenes, of blighted affection
touched us most— especially one that might have been
entitled " News from the Invisible World." A beauteous
bride was environed by the spirits of evil ; and so deep
was the interest we felt in the alarming fate of that lady
and her spectre bridegroom, that we still remember their
names : —
Smithfield Market and its Vicinity. 55
" Alonzo the Brave was the name of the knight —
The maiden's, the Fair Imogene."
With a parting cheer for the Fine Arts in a fury, we
may add that Mr Wroe was during many years a com-
missioner of police, and one of the most popular of
that governing body, whose existence and influence are
proven by the " Seal of Old Manchester," engraved as a
characteristic ornament for our opening chapter. Between
1 8 18 and 1821 he was a proprietor of the Manchester
Observer newspaper. It is recorded in the " Dictionary
of Printers and Printing," that in the course of four
months no less than thirteen processes issued against
himself and family on account of articles which were
considered libellous. So it would seem that Mr Wroe,
living in excitable times, and seeking to gratify excited
readers, indulged in effective paragraphs, which proved
expensive luxuries, bringing both cash penalties and
imprisonment in their train.
Newspaper editors — professed reviewers of men, of
manners, of books — live in critical glass houses (round
houses, forming a circle of reflectors), and yet niust
they, if faithful unto duty, be ceaselessly following in
the wake of David, slinging stones at the Giant Errors of
the world.
Mr Wroe's sometime contemporary, James Weatherley,
eschewed politics and their attendant dangers, dividing
his time pretty equally between books and Bacchus ; the
latter absorbing the profits arising from the former, for
the tipsy deity is a notorious leveller. A couple of stray
leaves from Mr Weatherley's neglected diary will plea-
santly illustrate his peculiarities : they are the only leaves
56 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
preserved* As the diarist enumerates most of the second-
hand booksellers of his time, the list may possess some
general interest ; and as all are named in a friendly spirit,
none will find cause for complaint.
" Tuesday, April i.— All fools' day ! flattering coin-
cidence. Too many friends at the Wheat Sheaf; could
not get away. Wonder where they keep Temperance
pledges t Must inquire. Ale at the Sheaf rather heavy.
Lighter at the Seven Stars, Stars always light; their
reflections brighter than mine. Dull jesting this morn-
ing. Remember selling a rare book for a sovereign that
I picked up for a shilling. But that happened long
ago, when Jacob — a queer fish was Jacob — and I kept
neighbouring stalls in the market-place, near the top of
Smithy Door, Did not waste a penny of that money ;
had more sense then. Older and madder. Would make
a capital preacher; can teach anybody wisdom except
myself. Ah ! the light and the lantern again : no wonder
they say comparisons are odious. Sutton came: the
world has grown worse with me since first I knew Sutton.
Said I was queer ; offered me a hair of the dog that bit
me so savagely last night. What could I say.' 'May
we ne'er want a friend nor a bottle to give him.' Drank
that toast too often and too deeply at the Sheaf. Then
Fithian came; had in his pocket a pledge, which he
kindly offered to me. Sorry it was just too late: had
given my word to Tom, and what is a man but his word 1 —
* Amongst recent discoveries, may be enumerated a few more leavfes of
J- W.'s diary, relating, mainly, his experience at the Grammar School at the
beginning of the present century ; but these must needs be sought else-
where.
Smithfield Market audits Vicinity. 57
' Tom never from his word departed,
His virtues were so rare.'
Must take one glass now ; could not well take the pledge
and all. "So went with Tom into the Fleece, where
'Lijah once saw the domestic battle 'wi' th' Bailies,'
which Rogerson wove into rhyme : —
' Aw'r stondin' by Dick Livesey heawse,
Th' owd Fleece, i' Withy Grove.'
No use trying to be a warbler. If ever I 'favour the
company with a song,' the company must supply the
singer. Never could sing to please myself, let alone
pleasing others: capital listener, though, when the song
and the singer are worth hearing. Parted with Tom,
and crossed over alone to the Seven Stars. Market
day; country buyers. Robert Holt, of Prestwich, —
friendly customer for anything local or curious in books
or coins, in prints or medals. Glad to see him always.
Should have got some fresh stock from Nathan Moore,
or John Long, or William Ardrey; but where is the
money } Useless to meet buyers with nothing to sell ;
might as well stay here ; yet cannot stay here for naught.
James Hudson has rent and taxes to pay for this ancient,
well-preserved tavern — the most picturesque hostel re-
maining in Manchester, bar Wilmot's in Smithy Door.
They say the 'Stars' is five hundred years old, and
has seen out many a spreeing customer such as me.
Must be fair, as long as I have anything to be fair with :
Mary, bring me another glass, and let it be fresh drawn.
Should not be the only idler in the trade to-day : James
Weatherley used to know a trick worth two of this.
58 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Thomas Sutton would not. tarry ; neither would William
Fithian nor Edward Tyson; they are now arranging
their stores to attract the bookworms. Will Ford, Robert
Roberts, and Willis are steady in their shops, — William
Ford (a true chip of the old block) composing cata-
logues at his leisure, arranging artistic rarities, or select-
ing lots for the auctioneer's hammer. That hammer is
Soingj going) gone, at this identical hour, knocking down
three-volume novels at an 'alarming sacrifice,' as the
drapers say. But novels are more in Mistress Baker's
way than in mine. She has made a study of the cir-
culating libraries, and knows exactly what will captivate
their readers. Those libraries are sinking now, — the list
of their names becomes shorter year by year, — but she
will sustain them, if any one can. So I may leave her
to cater for the few remaining librarians — Miss Cockroft,
George Jacques, Joseph Bohanna, William Hyde, and
the rest. Should not be idling here in business hours ;
paying very dear for the whistle — buying sixpenny ale
at a shilling a quart. Joseph Lockwood is minding
both shop and stall, and prospering accordingly. Close
beside him, with a much smaller collection, stands young
James Hayes. I feel sorry for Hayes. That family
should be riding- in a family carriage for inventing
those spinning-jennies. 'Lijah Ridings is ringing his
official bell, or day-dreaming over his favourite books.
William Hunt is stocking his new shop in Chapel Street,
vowing to make Salford keep at least one good book-
store ; but he will not succeed where so many have failed.
John Halliwell, Farrel Battle, and others are busy in the
market. All busy bees, all improving 'each shining
Smithfield Market and its Vicinity, 59
hour,' etcetera, as authors write on their title-pages,
after naming all their books. Wife came with Roger.
Misfortunes never come alone. Yet Roger is a good
lad sometimes; and the lady should not be blamed for
attending to her lord."
Here the diary abruptly terminates; the diarist sup-
posed to be gone home to a curtain lecture. Considering
that William Hutton and James Weatherley were engaged
in the same line of business, their trade diaries diiifer
strangely. The latter's natural shrewdness made his
remarks valuable to younger dealers. On hearing a
casual observation touching the smallness of his store
(for towards the close of his career it grew "small by
degrees," without becoming "beautifully less"), Weatherley
would rejoin that he had tried his hand at large unchang-
ing stocks, but preferred a small assortment, if frequently
replenished. " It was all very well," he would continue
in effect, though not precisely in language, "for the
Huttons and Lackingtons of the last century to write
of their tiny beginnings and proud endings, to tell us
of their huge collections and progressive triumphs; but
in those days buyers were waiting for books, while in
our era books are waiting for buyers. Therein lies the
important difference. Better to. change the tactics now.
When the shelves or stalls are full, do not hastily erect
others, but examine the store. Pick out the works that
have done their duty, — that have gone the round of the
customers, — and may not again be wanted ; exchange
or sell these at a cheap rate, and with the money buy
fresh ones which your visitors are waiting to see. You
will thus be enabled to keep the stock small, yet effective
6o Memorials of Manchester Streets.
— the drones giving reasonable place to the working bees."
Such was the essence of James Weatherley's experience-
none the less valuable to others because to himself its
advantages were counteracted by beer. He continued
his bootless (almost bookless) struggles to the year i860,
or thereabouts; when, at the age of sixty- six, he sur-
rendered at the silent summons, as poor and as patient
as Job.
It was at those homely bookstalls in Smithfield Market
and its vicinity that we first encountered the weird enter-
tainments of the "Arabian Nights," the mystical legends
of the " Elf and the Fairy," the marvels of the Heathen
Mythology, the " Iliad " of the sightless wandering minstrel,
and other charming emanations of intellect, which seem
as impervious to the touch of Time as if they had been
dipped, like Achilles, in the Stygian waters.
■" Such books as these
Are of no time or place ;
They live for ages yet to be, —
They live for all our race ! "
Those undying favourites we perused with delight, as a
matter of course, but also with a feeling of despondency.
We could not help comparing their enviable longevity with
certain buddings and blossomings of our own which
perversely refused to expand into flowers or fruitage.
Although we guarded their tendrils from the blights of
early spring, and fostered them with all the Promethean
fire and light that were in us, the ephemerals would not
live. Naturally curious to discover the key to any
mystery, and as anxious as the Cornishmen to " know the
reason why," we often analysed the composition of those
Smitkfield Market and its Vicinity. 6 1
literary evergreens ; though not exactly as the boy
analysed the bellows to discover the source of the wind.
When we met with any book — Shakespearian or otherwise
— that had basked in the sunshine of general favour during
one, or two, or three hundred years, and was still as full of
vigour and vitality as at first, we found it a pleasant task
to search for the mental charm, the ethereal spirit, that
enabled the undying one to float above the waters of Lethe,
instead of sinking beneath the surface with the crowd of
common books.
CHAPTER V.
god's acre.
" This is the field and acre of our God,
This is the place where human harvests grow."
Longfellow.
OUR present chapter must needs be less cheerful than
its immediate predecessor. On that occasion we
had the pleasure of summoning to our aid a throng of
familiar names and faces, in addition to the pictorial
window of Mr James Wroe, our worthy and intelligent
bibliopolist of a former day. Nothing less than a sense of
duty, — for duty is owing to the departed as well as to the
living, — would induce us to exchange such congenial
associations for the lettered pathways of the Cathedral
Yard, where all associations are forgotten, where remem-
brance is no more. Yet even here an occasional hour may
be profitably spent, and the records we glean of the buried
past may be found of sufficient interest for the columns of
a living newspaper, or for these memorial pages.
We cannot traverse the streets of Manchester, vacantly
or with thoughtful observation, over any considerable
space, without being checked by a churchyard. Whatso-
ever point of the vane we may choose, one of these silent
monitors confronts us with the ominous reminder, "Hitherto
shalt thou come, but no further, — at least in the flesh."
God's Acre. 63
Such is the sermon the burial-ground mutely preaches to
the pensive wayfarer. We can rarely enter the consecrated
precincts without a feeling of reverence and awe, — reverence
for the silent chambers beneath our feet, awe for the solemn
mysteries overhead. Perhaps this feeling has been inten-
sified - by a startling query once propounded by Thomas
de Quincey, Manchester's deepest thinker. It was to this
effect : — " Supposing the buried worlds, the countless
generations entombed since the creation of man, were to
arise and claim their places upon earth, what would
become of the living?" What, indeed! How, for
example, would the Shah of Persia fare in the warrior-
presence of the first Darius .' Descending to domestic
affairs, what would be the fate of many a frail Fatima,
were her Bluebeard to return once more from his journey,
examine the magical key, and punish the violation of the
blue chamber } We fear there would be more silent
women in the land than the headless lady pictured
satirically on the tavern signboard.
As the Cathedral Yard is .situated at the extremity of
Long Millgate, and likewise at the termination of Hunt's
Bank, we must, as a natural sequence, enter it to pursue
our researches. On passing through the gateway at
Hunt's Bank, we are immediately greeted, on the left
hand, by the familiar name of Bamford, as it occurs in the
inscription placed over the veteran's mother, who died in
Manchester : —
" Here resteth the remains of Hannah,
wife of Daniel Bamford, late of Middleton,
who departed this life December 26, 179s,
aged 40 years."
64 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
"When my father" writes Samuel Bamford, in his
" Early Days," " had completely recovered, he was grieved
that my mother had not been buried at Middleton, with
her children, as it was her expressed desire to be. He
accordingly took measures with a view to having her wish
complied with, but Doctor Ashton, who was at the time
rector of Middleton, and warden of the Collegiate Church
at Manchester, refused to grant permission for the removal
of her remains, alleging as his reason — and that perhaps a
proper one — that the infection of which she died, might be
communicated to persons attending the ceremony. She
therefore remained in her grave on the north side of the
steeple at the Collegiate Church, where my father caused
a stone to be placed, with a suitable inscription ; but in the
alterations which some years ago were made in the church-
yard, my mother's gravestone, like many others, disap-
peared." The stone, though absent for a time, has been
duly replaced, albeit in a shattered condition.
A little further on the north side was a stone (now
removed) bearing sundry names, inclusive of the follow-
ing :—
" Ellen, wife of Isaac Nield, aged 2 1 years,
drowned with seven more by a stage break-
ing down near the New Bridge, Nov. 27th
1798."
The accident by which Ellen Nield and her companions
lost their lives has been variously described. From the
most reliable version we gather that on a certain night in
November 1798, near the hour of twelve, a coachman
drove his vehicle, for the purpose of washing, into the
river Irwell, at Stanyhurst (opposite to the Cathedral
God's Acre. 65
tower, on the Salford side of the water). The current
running strong, the horses were drawn into the centre of
the stream, and forced under one of the arches of the
old bridge. In that critical state they swam, with the
man on the box, through Blackfriars Bridge, struggling
for their lives until one o'clock in the morning. Coming
near to a dyer's flat, the man leaped upon it, and there
lay exhausted. The horses endeavoured to- fallow their
master to his place of safety, but failed, and were drowned.
At daylight curiosity drew knots of people together to see
the bodies of the horses floating. A group of women and
children stood on a dyer's stage overhanging the river
near the New Bailey Bridge, when the bottom of the
stage gave way, and all were precipitated into the water.
Three were saved, the remaining eight were washed
away by the flood. One of the three rescued was a boy,
fetched out by a dyer's dbg. The sagacious animal
returned for another prize, but he was too late. Good
dog! He reminds us of the brave Moustache. The First
Napoleon would have adorned his neck with a ribbon
and a medal. In the middle of February 1799, after
eleven weeks' immersion, the body of Ellen Nield was
washed up near the locks at Barton Bridge ; she was
recognised by her clothes, though in a dilapidated state.
On the same day (the ice had suddenly thawed) another
of the sufferers was found at Mode Wheel, at which weir
so many inanimate forms have been recovered, especially
after the numerous floods occurring during the present
century. In consequence of the disaster thus described,
an official notice was issued that the passage leading
from Greengate to the river would be closed each evening
66 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
at sunset against all carriages. Formerly Stanyhurst was
so much frequented, that many accidents happened
through overcrowding. This Stanyhurst accident partly
repeated itself in October 1873. A cabman, John Proctor,
aged twenty-nine, a resident of Hulme, unaccountably
drove his cab, near midnight, on to the towing-path-
of the river Irwell, near Stanley Street, and, with the
horse and cab, fell into the river. After considerable
difficulty, the horse was rescued, but the driver was
drowned, and the cab wellnigh destroyed.
On the south side of the Cathedral Yard, not far from
the tower, a quaintly-cut inscription of some historical
interest was visible until very recently, but it has now
disappeared.
" Here lyeth ye body of Gamaliel Whitaker,
late vicar of Kirk Burton in Yorkshire, who
dyed ye first day of February 1643."
To these words Mr Owen has added, in his manuscript
book of local epitaphs, an extract from the register of
burials: — "1643, Feb. ist. — Gamaliel Whittaker, preacher
of ye Word of God, deceased at Widow Birches.'' In
elucidation of these records we gladly avail ourselves of a
letter addressed to Mr Owen by Mr H. J. Morehouse,
the historian of Kirkburton :— " Many thanks for your
note containing the inscription on Mr Whitaker's grave-
stone. As the circumstances connected with his death
have been carefully considered by me, I view this inscrip-
tion with peculiar interest. I very much regret to learn
that the stone has disappeared. It is sad to think that
the ancient memorials which surround many of our
parish churches are so little cared for. The public owe
God^s Acre. 67
you a debt of gratitude for rescuing many of these
memorials of your parish and neighbourhood. The entry
in your register of Mr Whitaker's burial is also interest-
ing, and it affords a painful picture of the times, as you
will learn by the following extract from the parish
register at Kirkburton : — ' Hester Whitaker, wife of
Gamaliel Whitaker, vicar at Kirkburton, whoe was slaine
the 1 2th day at night January instant, and was buried
the isth day 1643-4.' In my book [" History of the Parish
of Kirkburton "] I have entered rather minutely into what
appears to me probable circumstances which led to these
disastrous results. One paragraph may interest you: —
' In the autumn of the year 1643, the cause of the Parlia-
ment began to brighten, and continued steadily to advance
till these sanguinary conflicts were brought to a close
by the entire subversion of the Royalists and the death
of the King. Whether the attack made by the army
under the Earl of Newcastle upon the inhabitants of
Holmfirth had been at the instigation of Mr Whitaker,
can now only be matter of conjecture; but what shortly
afterwards befell him seems to imply that the inhabitants
regarded it as such ; for not long after a party of soldiers
(Parliamentarians) from Woodhead went in the night to
Burton to carry off Mr Whitaker to Manchester, where
he died in a month of grief and ill-usage. Whether any
resistance had been offered on the part of the vicar or his
friends there exists no evidence to show, but tradition
states that Mrs Whitaker was shot on the staircase of the
parsonage.' "
Still lingering on the southern side of our ancient
modernised Cathedral, and approaching: the Mitre Hotel,
68 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
we find no difficulty in deciphering a lengthy epitaph,
which, to the careless gazer, shows nothing uncommon,
but to the reader acquainted with the painful story of the
forgotten sleeper at his feet, how much is the interest of
the chiseled record increased ! The value of adding cause
to effect is efficiently demonstrated. A brief portion of the
epitaph is all we require : —
"Also Margt. wife of the above Henry
Marsden, who departed this life April 26,
1 817, aged 75 yrs."
At the date here given, Margaret Marsden, a widow, had
been, during ten years, servant in the house of Mr Thomas
Littlewood, adjoining the Three-nooked Field, Pendleton.
The family consisted of four persons — the master and
mistress, Margaret, and a younger servant, Hannah Par-
tington, aged twenty. Mr Littlewood had a grocer's shop
in Salford, where every Saturday he attended to meet his
customers, the market people. On Saturday morning, the
26th of April 1 817, Mr and Mrs Littlewood went to their
business as usual ; at their return in the evening, they .
found several neighbours gathered near the house appre-
hensive of something wrong. A ladder being procured,
the dwelling was entered by an upper window; and on
descending, the two servants were found murdered —
Hannah weltering in her blood on the floor, Margaret on
her chair. A poker, bent and bloody, lay upon the dresser ;
a stained cleaver was also found. About one hundred and
sixty pounds in notes and gold were missing, in addition
to some plate and wearing apparel. Who had committed
the crime ? None could tell with certainty ; but four
men had been noticed hovering about during the day.
God's Acre. 69
Suspicion therefore attached to them : they were de-
scribed, and speedily hunted down. Two were appre-
hended in St George's Road, one in Silk Street, Newton
Lane; the other at the Swan Inn, Sugar Lane : all on the
following day. Committed to the Assizes at Lancaster,
the prisoners were thus arraigned before the Lord Chief-
Baron, in the month of August then next ensuing : — Wil-
liam Holden, forty-seven ; James Ashcroft the elder, fifty-
three ; James Ashcroft the younger, thirty-two ; David
Ashcroft, forty-eight; John Robinson, fifty-three. The
last-named was acquitted, there being no evidence to
connect him either with the crime or with the other
persons accused. The foreman of the grand jury was
Edward Geoffrey Lord Stanley, then in his nineteenth
year. In his charge to the petit jury, at the conclusion
of the trial, the Chief-Baron observed that the circum-
stances of the case were extraordinary ; without doubt
blood was spilled in considerable quantity, yet not a drop
was visible on any of the prisoners; nor was any part
of the missing property found upon them, — except, per-
haps, the money, which could not be identified. But two
of the prisoners had suddenly become possessed of bank-
notes and gold, of which no satisfactory account was
given. The strong favourable points he considered over-
balanced by the general tenor of the evidence, which,
though circumstantial, formed a connected chain. The
prisoners solemnly denied any knowledge of the murder,
but their denial went of course for nought. It is the
peculiar and unavoidable hardship of accused persons —
whatsoever the accusation may be — that their lips are
virtually sealed, even against the truth. The jury almost
70 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
immediately returned a verdict of guilty against all the
four men, who were thereupon sentenced to death, to
be followed by dissection. On Monday, 8th September,
the execution took place. While upon the scaffold,
William Holden said to the multitude, " I am now going
to meet my God, and in the face of Him I declare I am
as innocent of the concern as the child yet unborn."
David Ashcroft said, " You are all assembled to see four
innocent men suffer. ... I would not now tell a lie
for all the world." As soon as the elder Ashcroft came
upon the scaffold, he kissed his son. After the ropes
were affixed, they all sang a hymn which David gave out.
It was the well-known hymn beginning —
" I'H praise my Maker whilst I've breath.
And when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler powers :
My hours of praise shall ne'er be past,
While life, and thought, and being last,
Or immortality endures.''
While they were singing, the drop fell, and the guilt or
innocence of the four men remains to the present day a
debatable point — a problem unsolved.
The inscriptions in the Cathedral Yard are essentially
prosaic: few verses are visible. Perhaps the surround-
ings are anti-poetical. The springs of Castalia, we may
remember, were not polluted, as are the streams of the
Irwell and the Irk. Neither was the atmosphere breathed
at Mount Helicon tainted, as with us, by chemical
miasma. In our city churchyard Gray could never have
composed his famous Elegy. As we wander into the
country, we become impressed with the fancy— almost
God's Acre. 71
the fact — that elegies spring with the flowers. Often, too,
they appear equally suggestive, or soothing, or beautiful.
But at other times and places, the tributary rhymes are
as uniform in their mediocrity as if a churchyard laureate
were maintained for the special purpose of supplying
them. Another point of divergence exists between the
city and the sylvan " God's Acre." In our Cathedral Yard
Old Mortality can never feel quite at ease, nor appear
in his native character. In deference to the prevailing
fashion, he must leave his favourite pony in the stable,
and exchange his picturesque blue bonnet for a modern
hat. Even then, the active spirits thereabouts, who know
so well that time is money, and that money makes the
mare to go, will marvel that the old-time dreamer should
linger so long on the unbusiness side of the railings.
But in the green enclosure of the hamlet the pilgrim-poet
finds his natural element. As he pursues his vocation, the
silence and solitude remain unbroken, except by welcome
visitants. The mower, bearing his newly-sharpened
scythe, passes him with a friendly nod ; the country girl
trips gaily near with her basket of fruit and flowers,
daintily picking her way through the pasturing sheep j
while the hoary sexton — the " Goodman Delver " of
Shakespeare — slowly adds his useful illustrations to the
chiseled chronicles. And so the hours glide, to Old
Mortality's content, until his research is completed, or
until the shadowed dial warns him to depart with the
sun.
That many of our venerable rustic churches and hal-
lowed places of rest possess charms sufficient to justify
72 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Mortality's predilection, few will be disposed to deny ; and
that such visits to neglected shrines may be amply re-
warded we have often received satisfactory proof. Once,
and once only, we chanced to be at Cartmel, — a sea-girt
valley, reached by crossing the sands from Lancaster, and
placed at the foot of the Fells, which herald the grand
mountain range of the Lake district. It was Sunday; the
stillness was impressive; and as we loitered among the
mounds, and headstones, and scattered sheep, the bell rang
out for morning service, and we entered the ancient priory
church. One member of the limited congregation was the
lord of the neighbouring lands (the Earl of Burlington),
paying due homage to the Lord of all. During the
sermon, birds were flying from opened window to window,
or singing on the war-worn banner, as it waved fitfully
from the ceiling. Here and there, along the aisles, were
monumental brasses, which shone in the vivid sunlight.
Though all this might be commonplace to the isolated
villagers, the scene afforded to us (who had passed our
Sundays busily within a crowded city) an agreeable speci-
men of Sabbath life in the country. It was a glimpse
of a fresher existence, a breathing of a purer atmosphere,
than we had hitherto shared.
■ While at Cartmel, we saw a kitchen-fire which had not
been extinguished during a long lifetime. " It is seventy-
five years," said the owner, Mr William Field, in explana-
tion, "since I was born in this house, and the fire has never
been out to my knowledge. It is easily kept in. We cut
a peat from the adjoining moss, put it under the embers at
night, and in the morning nothing- is required save fresh
God's Acre. 73
fuel." The fire glowed upon the hearthstone, the ample
old-fashioned place being independent of a grate. The
family pot was suspended by substantial hooks and chains ;
the whole reminding us of a gipsy tent, and of an English
home in the days of Queen Elizabeth.
A Glance at Market Street and Piccadilly. 75
cated at the Moravian School, Fairfield. Like Coleridge,
our humourist enlisted in the army, and, to complete the
resemblance, was soon restored to his friends. In 1829
he was in business as a bookseller at the upper end of
Market Street, his next-door neighbours being Jewsbury
and Whitlow. As a bookseller Mr Gregson was unsuccess-
ful, soon resigning his shop to a confectioner, who got all
the sweets of business where Geoffrey, on his own affirma-
tion, had received all the sours. In 1833 was published
his " Gimcrackiana ; or, Fugitive Pieces on Manchester
Men and Manners Ten Years Ago." Most of the effusions
contained in the book had previously appeared in the
(Liverpool) Kaleidoscope, the Manchester Guardian, and the
Iris. With a droll incident of the old stage-coaching days,
we take leave of our sprightly cicerone in Market Street : —
"A few stanzas more ere my theme I give over,
On that wonderful coach which they call the Red Rover,
For ' Take off a wheel,' as said Richard to Robin,
You'll never be spilt, ' Patent Safety,' you Bobbin !
For it is not a month since, as going down-hill.
The coach parted company with a fore-wheel.
And still held on her course, and, though going quite fast.
Ne'er found out the loss tiU the trundler passed :
Nay I've heard, but pray keep it between I and you,
Next season they're meaning to try it with two ! !
They return by this coach, do these sons of the trade.
So I've nicknamed each ' kid ' as a Red Roving blade ;
As the clock of th' Infirmary strikes eight they go —
You may fancy the ' coves ' in the picture below ! "
Mr Wilmot Henry Jones, whose name appears in Mr
Gregson's picture, was the Manchester Moxon, the pro-
vincial poets' printer. He was in business prior to 1829,
his name disappearing from the Directory in 1843.
76 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Amongst the notable issues from Mr Jones' press may be
enumerated the first edition of Bailey's " Festus," Roger-
son's "Rhyme, Romance, and Reverie," Edward Chesshyre's
" Posthumous Songs," " Gimcrackiana," and the " Man-
chester Literary Gazette." It is worthy of remark, that
Robert Rose, the bard of colour, was the first person who
bought a copy of "Festus," when that wonderful poem
was printed here. There had been no rush for early
impressions. When Mr Jones — a curious character^was
informed of the tardy sale, he sought out the purchaser, to
congratulate him on his superior and singular taste.
A much earlier glimpse of Market Street is yielded by
an ancient legal " Case ; " in which the upper portion of
the lane, two centuries and a half ago, is thus describedy
the value of land and rental being also minutely set forth.
The amazing contrast between then and now will impress
the most casual observer. "John Hunt, late of Manchester
in the county of Lancaster, deceased, being in his lifetime
seised of a messuage, with the appurtenances in Manchester
aforesaid, situate in or near a certain street there called
the Market Street Lane, and one barn, with the appurten-
ances to the said messuage belonging, and three closes in
Manchester aforesaid, lying near and belonging to the said
messuage or dwelling-house, called by the several names of
the Great Meadow, the Brick-Kiln Meadow, the Kiln Field,
and the House Field, containing by estimation ten acres
of land or thereabouts, did, by indenture bearing date the
26th of May 1 61 2, made between the said John Hunt of'
the one part, and Robert Lever of Darcy Lever in the said
county, clothier, of the other part, in consideration of one
hundred and twenty pounds, paid to the said John Hunt
A Glance at Market Street and Piccadilly. 77
by the said Robert Lever, demise to the said Robert
Lever the said premises for the term of twenty-one years
from Michaelmas then next, under the yearly rent of
twenty shillings. And some short time after making of
the said lease, the said John Hunt did, by deed, demise
the said premises unto the said Robert Lever for the term
of one hundred years, to commence from Christmas 1632,
under the yearly rent of ten shillings."
Exercising the peculiar privilege of the pen, and making
thereby a convenient transit from 1632 to the current time,
we may observe that Market Street, having already
received its full share of literary and artistic attention,
stands in no immediate want of another chronicler.
Painters have sketched its venerable features while they
were as yet picturesque ; pantomimists have introduced the
traffic-laden thoroughfare into the comic business of the
pantomime ; and songsters, finding here the active varieties
of life, have eulogised the street in rough-and-ready verses.
Quite recently, this main artery of the city has been
visited by Mr Sala (the critical observer of many renowned
thoroughfares of the world), who has recorded his impres-
sions in the airy, free-ranging manner which he usually
prefers; while Mrs Linnaeus Banks has thoughtfully dis-
coursed upon its history from the other or more sedate
side. So what more need be said or sung 1 The present
writer has arrived a day after the fair. Little of novelty
remains for him, unless he pursue the census-taking plan,
making a shop-to-shop analysis. " Shops and their
tenants " it must of necessity be, for in Market Street the
shops are rarely found empty, and many of the tenants
have possessed noteworthy attributes.
78 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Let us now extend our stroll to Piccadilly.
In one of the most remarkable of the short poems of
Ludwig Uhland, the recently-deceased German poet, he
describes a passage from shore to shore, in which he was
accompanied by shadows— vanished people and scenes no
longer visible to the matter-of-fact world. It will suit our
humour to pace Piccadilly on this dream-like principle of
locomotion.
Taking our stand upon the arch which spans the water-
line separating Piccadilly from the London Road, a passing
glance may be given to an early (conjectural) plan of the
town, dating from the year of grace 800, when the now
busy spot, the noisy railway station, was an unrecognised
waste, the extremity of Manchester in this direction being
Acre's Field. The first reliable notice of our city that is
to be found in any English record is a passage in the
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle under the date of 923. Even in
the map of Manchester dated 1650,* a solitary house —
Mr Lever's — is pictured as standing here alone in the
midst of gardens, pasture lands, and corn-fields. Some
years later, Mr Lever and his rural prospects having dis-
appeared, a range of substantial dwellings rose upon the
* With reference to this map, a shortcoming — the omisson of Sugar Lane —
may be pointed out. The early existence of that lane is proven by a brief
entry in the register : — " 1605, Maye 25. — Richard Boile, in y= Sugar Lane.
Buried." Richard Boile was a victim of the plague, which raged fearfully in
Manchester in 1605. So fatal was the pestilence, that no fewer than 1078
interments were recorded during the year, being one-fifth of the inhabitants.
These numbers are given on the authority of the Rev. John Booker's " History
of Didsbury," confirmed by Mr Owen's reference to the registers at the Colle-
giate Church. In the following year a tax, varying from sixpence to six
shillings, was laid upon the inhabitants for the relief of the sufferers. — See
Calendar of State Papers,
A Glance at Market Street and Piccadilly. 79
site, perpetuating, as Lever's Row, the favourite name of
the landowner. His retired mansion was converted into
the White Bear Hotel, celebrated in " Gimcrackiana."
Opposite the Row was the Daubholes, where the Infirmary-
esplanade now appears.. Finally, we have the spacious,
thriving, populous Piccadilly of our own day.
Having thus briefly sketched the scene, we will endea-
vour to people it with sundry figures, isolated or in groups.
Several published views of this spot, with the Infirmary,
of course, the most prominent object of attraction, will be
familiar to observant citizens. Prior to these, we have
a literal drawing by Barritt of the Daubholes, and a
curious scene it forms. In the distance a goodly array
of trees and underwood occupy the site of Portland Street
and beyond ; the pond itself is wellnigh surrounded by
gazers. In the immediate foreground two women have
taken forcible possession of a man — whether in love or
in war is not apparent. Superintending the whole, and
with staff in hand, stands the parish beadle in his pic-
turesque costume. The most patient of scolds is seated
in the ducking-stool, awaiting the pleasure of the beadle's
assistant to slip his rope and thereby immerse her in the
pool. We have seen scolds much less tractable, much
less obedient to the law and its officers. The Infirmary
pond, subsequently railed and enclosed (to the permanent
exclusion of scolds and ducking-stools), remained a lead-
ing feature of Piccadilly until within recent years, when
it was drained and filled-in, giving place to fountains and
statues.
Moving slowly onward, as is our wont (" our custom in
the afternoon"), we approach the boarding-house where
So Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Wright Bowden, the Manchester opera-singer of a past
generation, made his exit from the stage of life. Intro-
duced to the musical world by Madame Mara, the great
embroiderer of Handel, Mr Bowden left his father's
tavern, the Unicorn, situated at the top of Smithy Door,
to win laurels on the boards of Covent Garden Theatre.
Thence, as a singing star, he warbled his " music of the
spheres" at divers towns of the United Kingdom. Re-
turning home, long after his home, with all its ties, had
been swept away, he lingered with us to the close of his
existence, in April 1823, ultimately occupying one of the
thousand graves in St Mary's Churchyard, Parsonage,
where his name may still be distinctly seen.
We are now in immediate proximity to one of the most
interesting private libraries in the county; but our visit
to its books and brochures, its maps and manuscripts, can,
without detriment, be postponed to another season.
A few paces further along Piccadilly, in Chatham Street,
died, after a lengthened residence and a green old age,
Mr and Mrs Ward, the once celebrated comedians. So
long ago as 1767, Mr Ward took a benefit at our original
theatre in Mardsen Street, announcing himself as a native
of the town. During a short stay in London he worked,
like George Frederick Cooke, as a letterpress printer.
Mrs Ward (originally Miss Hoare) was brought out at the
Liverpool Theatre by Mr Younger, and was during
many years the rival of Mrs Siddons, a circumstance to
which she thus feelingly alluded in one of her later
addresses : —
" The dawn of life she cannot now portray
With her and Siddons 'tis no longer May ;
A Glance at Market Street and Piccadilly. 8 1
But the autumnal sun oft shines as bright
As the refulgent summer's brilliant light.
If not a Juhet in the spring of hfe,
She still can act the mother and the wife :
Shall she commence ? — she's waiting your commands ;
She knows the signal — your approving hands."
In 1782 Mr and Mrs Ward commenced an engagement
at Drury Lane, where he opened as " Ranger," but returned
to Manchester after one or two seasons. She remained
in the metropolis a much longer period, performing
regularly with Mrs Siddons and Miss Farren. In 1790,
when the theatre in Spring Gardens was rebuilt, Mr
Ward, conjointly with Mr Banks, assumed the manage-
ment. On the retirement of Mr Banks, in the year 1800,
his place at the managerial board was supplied by Mr
Bellamy, the singer, who, five years later, withdrew in
favour of Mr Charles Mayne Young. When, in the
summer of 1807, the house ceased to be a theatre royal,
Mr Young proceeded to win high honours in London,
while Mr Ward retreated into private life. We hear
nothing more of him until 1810, at which date he entered
into an arrangement with Messrs Lewis and Knight, of
the Liverpool Theatre, thereby acquiring the active con-
trol of our playhouse in Fountain Street, which he retained
until 1825. Mr Ward bade adieu to the stage as a per-
former in April 1811, in the character of "Lord Ogleby,"
to Mrs Ward's " Miss Sterling." Later in the evening he
delivered a farewell address, which, as it contains some
bits of autobiography, may be thought worthy of repro-
duction : —
." Death shoots so well, he brings all ages down,
And few escape to wear a patriarch's crown ;
F
82 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
The sons of Thespis, too, who live by you,
Find Sliakespeare's simile is but too true ;
He says they strut and fret their scenic age,
And then are heard no more upon the stage ;
With their dibut some make their parting bow,
Some in old age, — but I must do it now.
'Tis more than thirty years since first I came
To this loved town in search of scenic fame ;
Young on the stage, as well as green in years,
I wished to melt your hearts, and steal your tears ;
Judgment misled — I thought my ardent soul
Sharpened the dagger, filled the tragic bowl.
You nursed the tyro, till maturer age
Chalked out the line where best I trod the stage ;
Hamlet and Romeo — the whole tragic stock,
I left for ever — thence to wear the sock.
The plaudit praise to me was highly dear.
And whilst I live, 'twill gratefully glow here ;
But gout, fell enemy of agile steps,
Over some years I might have acted, leaps ;
Seizes my limbs, and paralyses power.
Ere my contemporaries reach their exit hour.
Alas ! unequal to the active part,
I now retire to cater for the art ;
No longer actor — yet direct the scene.
Proud when you're pleased, your praise the richest gain ;
Happy when crowds attraction hither draws,
Yet still more happy blessed with your applause."
When we began our agreeable task of recalling a few
of the departed worthies of Piccadilly, we referred to the
Manchester newspapers for 1835 — the date of Mr Ward's
decease — to glean a few autobiographical facts, and to
read the list of brother actors, or managers, who had
honoured his funeral by their presence. The mountain,
as of yore, brought forth a mouse. One line and a half
of curt information was all that could be found : —
A Glance ai Market Sireei and Piccadilly. 83
"December i, at his residence in Chatham Street, aged
eighty-six, Thomas Achurch Ward, Esq." Not an allu-
sion to the forty years' actor, and thirty years' manager,
who had just taken his final leave of the town. A few
years of quiet retirement had entirely obliterated the
remembrance of his public Hfe, although so unusually
lengthened and active. A classical writer might here
exclaim, with a sigh, Sic transit, slowly adding the com-
panion syllables, gloria mundi. When a favourite actor
quits the stage, he " dies to all his former glory." Mrs
Ward kept possession of our boards until April 18 16, at
which date she quitted the theatre in her pet part, " Elvira."
She survived her husband several years.
At our next stage, Portland Place, died, at the mature
age of eighty, Mr Thomas Houldsworth, whose name was
once a household word in Manchester. His town resi-
dence has since been converted and extended into the
Queen's Hotel.* His principal country seat was Sherwood
Hall, Nottinghamshire. In the obituary of Sylvanus
Urban, Mr Houldsworth is described as late M.P. for
the Northern Division of Notts, and cotton-spinner at
Manchester and Pontefract ; but it was chiefly in associa-
tion with running horses that he was so familiarly known.
His connection with Kersal Moor Races began in 1804,
and was continued with singular popularity until near the
close of his existence. How well we recollect his silken
jacket of green and gold ! How often have we seen it
glisten in the Whitsuntide sunshine ! If we knew where
* "Mr Houldsworth, 2 Portland Place, a beautiful star." Such was the
printed description of his illumination on the occasion of the Queen's visit.
84 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
he sleeps, and the miles were not too many, we might
copy his epitaph for the sake of "auld lang syne." His
favourite racer, Vanish, by Phantom, surmounted by Sam
Darling, his principal jockey, will assuredly never vanish
like a phantom from our recollection. His more famous
horse, Filho da Puta, triumphed before our time. Mr
Houldsworth was one of the oldest members of Parliament,
having occupied a seat in the House thirty-four years —
from 18 1 8 to the dissolution in 1852. His own dissolution
occurred on the ist of September in the year last named :
so the senator's robe was swiftly exchanged for the
shroud. He represented successively Pontefract, Newton,
and North Notts. This gentleman's parliamentary career,
though long, was not remarkably brilliant. A regular
attender and consistent voter, he nevertheless preferred,,
as a rule, to be a silent listener in the House, — quite con-
tent to leave to the Ciceros all the fiery outbursts of
eloquence. Mr Houldsworth's reticence might almost be
viewed in the light of a senatorial virtue. Who would
not prefer attentive silence to loud mischievous eloquence .'
For our part, we never listen to a long-winded mouther
of fustian without feeling an earnest desire that Demos-
thenes would resume the use of his pebbles.
CHAPTER VII.
ROYAL VISIT — THE GREAT GALA DAY.
"If we calculate the eccentricity of the orbit in which royalty moves by
the period that has elapsed since the last visit, and by that determine the
period of the next, it will be close upon the twenty-second century ere the
phenomenon is again observed in the streets of Manchester. I wonder what
reign that will be in, what kind of people will fill our places to come and
see it, who will be Mayor; and, 'though last, not least,' whether the Town
Council will uniformly agree to wear gowns upon that occasion ; whether it
will rain, as at Liverpool, or be fair, as at Manchester ? All this, I take it, is
very grave matter for speculation. "
Thomas Nicholson.
/^^NE year prior to Mr Houldsworth's decease (as re-
^-^ corded at the close of the last chapter), Piccadilly
put on the gayest holiday dress she was ever known to
wear. How well that dress became her, will be obvious
by a glance at the accompanying engraving. In the
production of this pictorial transcript of our greatest
gala, two Manchester artists have happily united their
talents. We are treating, of course, of the memorable
October day (unprecedented in the history of Manchester)
when Queen Victoria paid her first visit to the city of
fents and factories. Long before daylight, in many
directions, the noisy bustle of preparation could be
heard. Sleep and work being alike suspended, the
knockers-up were at a discount, and at liberty to enjoy
86 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
the pastime with the rest. Hasty feet flocked towards
the scene of action as fast as the darkness, the occasional
barriers, the guarding constables, would permit. No lack
of huge banners, of great beauty, were seen waving aloft,
while a multiplicity of streamers fluttered gaily from
balcony and window. Long strings of Sunday-scholars
in Sunday garments threaded their way towards Peel
Park, commencing their festive march at six o'clock, and
finishing shortly after nine. At the latter hour every
person, party, or procession was expected to be in the
place allotted or selected, save ticket-holders for plat-
forms, who were allowed another hour. The ordinary
traffic along the whole line of route from Worsley to
Manchester was stopped at eight o'clock, until after her
Majesty's return. The benefit societies and associated
bodies lining the roads of Manchester and Salford were,
in auctioneer phrase, " too numerous to mention " in these
pages. They were distinguished by rosettes, sashes, or
white gloves. One of these orders, styled the "True
Friends,'' encompassed us, to the number of five hundred,
on that auspicious day. Five hundred true friends! Alas!
at the present writing we might search with the lantern
of Diogenes without finding a tithe of the number.
As the morning hours advanced, the church bells rang
out — from steeples adorned with flagstaffs and colours —
their loudest welcoming peals. Troops of country cousins
arrived by waggon, or omnibus, or excursion train, accom-
panied by bands of music playing " Haste to the Wed-
ding," and other lively airs in favour with the villagers.
From the orchards and meadow-lands came plenty of
rosy cheeks to mingle during one day with the lily
Royal Visit — The Great Gala Day. 87
features of the city. Even the Infirmary, house of acci-
dents, amputations, and death though it be, made merry
with, the blythest. Its convalescent patients, assisted by
sticks, arm-slings, or crutches, dotted the grounds of the
institution, or walked along the margin of the pool ; other
sufferers taking more elevated views from the sick wards
aloft. The length of the Infirmary pond was six hundred
and fifteen feet ; its width, at the Mosley Street end,
being eighty feet, and at the end of Portland Street,
sixty feet. The fountains in the basin, although unable
to rival certain Continentals in magnitude or beauty,
certainly did their best to sprinkle the passers-by, and
when the utmost is done to please us, we ought to be
grateful. From three large fountains the water rose
glittering to a reasonable height, while the numerous
smaller jets displayed a due spirit of emulation. So far
as the royal cortege was concerned, there had been water
enough at Liverpool, as well as at Patricroft, on the
previous day, when Her Majesty and suite h^d seen thg
threatening clouds "rain poikels," — as Lancashire aloj^p
can rain them, — almost without intermission. Thp heavy
rainfall necessarily marred the efifect of the rich state
barges, and of the decorated regatta boats accompany-
ing them in their progress from the landing-stage 2,%
Patricroft to Worsley Hall; yet it could not drown the
hearty hurrahs at Worsley Bridge, and at other points
along the Bridgewater Canal, where the yeomen and
peasantry had clustered to shout their loudest. Under
this species of "Lancashire fire" the boat-horses stood
firm, the result of previous training. At Salford, as at
Manchester, the weather proved more favourable. A dull
88 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
hazy morning gradually brightened ; gleams of sunshine
intervened, a^ the sky retrieved its serenity; until, at
noon, with Her Majesty's arrival, came really "Queen's
weather."
The royal party, leaving Worsley about ten o'clock,
and passing through Swinton, Irlams-o'-th-Height, and
Pendleton, reached the triumphal arch at Windsor Bridge
at eleven. Here the Mayor of Salford (Mr Thomas
Agnew) was presented to the sovereign by Earl Grey,
the minister in attendance — guards of honour, military
bands, the melody of church bells, lending hilarity to the
presentation. The departure from Worsley Hall, and
progress on the road, were signalled to the authorities
of Salford in a novel fashion, — not by beacon-fire, as in
feudal times, nor by the modern mode of telegraphic
wires, — but simply by four hundred policemen, distributed
along the route, lifting their hats in rapid succession.
In the regal procession were five carriages, containing
the Queen, Prince Albert, the Prince of Wales, the Princess
Royal, the Duke of Wellington, the Duke of Norfolk, the
Marquis of Westminster, the Earl and Countess of
Ellesmere, Earl Grey, Viscountess Brackley, Viscountess
Canning, the Honourable Captain Egerton, Ladies Alice
and Blanche Egerton, the Honourable Beatrice Byng,
Colonel Phipps, Colonel Gordon, Sir James Clark,
and the Rev. H. M. Birch. These visitors were pre-
ceded from Worsley to Salford by the High Sheriff (Mr
Thomas Percival Heywood) in his state chariot, in which
also sat the Earl of Carlisle and the lady of Mr Oliver
Heywood.
On resuming his carriage, the Mayor of Salford, accom-
Royal Visit — The Great Gala Day. 89
panied by Mr Gibson, the town-clerk, led the way into Peel
Park, being greeted at the entrance by the Blue-Coat
Boys, playing " God save the Queen " upon their brass
band. Each boy wore a medal, suspended round his neck
by a scarlet ribbon. Moving slowly through the cheering
multitude to the Pavilion, an address, engrossed on vellum,
was there read and presented to Her Majesty. Then came
the most impressive scene of the day. As the carriages
passed between the platforms, where seventy thousand
scholars were assembled, the procession was stayed until
the children, led by Mr D. W. Banks, sang the national
anthem, including a new verse written for the occasion
by Mr Charles Swain. The effect has been described as
singularly pleasing and novel, " filling the air with infan-
tine melody." The royal cortege, preceded by the Mayor,
then passed out at the principal entrance, proceeding
along Chapel Street to the triumphal arch at Victoria
Bridge, where Mr Agnew retired.
On entering Manchester, at a quarter to twelve, the chief
magistrate (Mr John Potter) was presented to Her Majesty,
who received from his worship a bouquet of rare beauty.
Here, as at Windsor Bridge, guards of honour, military and
other bands, the church bells, and lusty voices enlivened
the scene, to which was added a salute of small guns from
the Salford side of the river, at Stanyhurst. The route
pursued, preceded by the Mayor and the town-clerk, was
along Victoria Street, Market Street, High Street, Shude-
hill, Swan Street, Oldham Street (adorned with a chaste
arch at each end, illuminated at night,) and so to Pic-
cadilly.
As the royal visitors entered the scene of our illustration,
90 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
the occupants of the balconies and platforms rose en masse,
to give force to their waving and cheering. When the
excitement was at its height, a lady fell from a small
temporary stand, thereby receiving injuries which, after a
short illness, proved fatal. How the lights and shadows
mingle ! The victim to the passing pageant was quickly
removed by her mourning friends, and the multitude —
partly unconscious, partly uncaring — pursued its merri-
ment as if no serious accident had happened. There is
nothing so merciless or selfish as a crowd ; a fact which we
had once an opportunity of proving at the Bowdon Railway
Station, The day (Good Friday) had been remarkably fine
for the season, and Rostherne Mere, with its sylvan
neighbour Dunham Park, held forth irresistible attractions
to the denizens of the surrounding towns. Some idea of
the number of visitors may be formed when we state that,
returning to Bowdon Station at six o'clock in the evening,
it was near midnight ere we obtained a safe seat in the
train. As the carriages came, they were hastily filled, and
swiftly departed. About eight o'clock there was a fearful
rush, caused by some reckless persons holding by the
handles of the carriages while in the act of being drawn
up to the platform — thus forcing out of their places many
who were awaiting their turn. Immediately a cry arose,
" A girl under the wheel ! " But the cry passed almost
unheeded until too late. The crowd had neither eyes nor
ears, heart nor intellect, but continued its headlong course
to the vacant carriages. Poor lassie ! she was crushed,
like a summer butterfly, in her holiday garb.
Return we now to Piccadilly and its pageant. As the
coaches filed past us, our eyes wandered vainly in search
Royal Visit — The Great Gala Day. 9 1
of the Queen. She was simply attired in partial mourning,
and although we love simplicity, it disappointed us on that
occasion. We resembled the countryman who went to
London in search of the royal arms, as recorded in the
witty and wise pages of Joe Miller, and almost expected
to see the coronation regalia surmounting the carriage in
which Her Majesty rode. At length our vision rested on
the unmistakable features of the Iron Duke, who died in
the following year at Walmer Castle, and whose conspi-
cuous monument — the most prominent of the four statues
now ornamenting the Infirmary esplanade — towers close
at hand, — writing from the stand-point we then occupied.
We recognised none other of the royal or noble visitors,
and were not sorry to fill our eyes just once with remarkable
features, destined to live in history, in portraiture, and
even in caricature, — for the small wits of the world will
take their occasional fling ; though, sometimes, missing
" Folly as it Flies," they shoot nobler game. The ven-
erable Duke was passive, almost unobservant — perhaps
thinking of the more thrilling hurrahs of the battle-field,
where the colours float with a deeper meaning than in
Piccadilly upon a gala day.
So soon as the procession had passed from view we
descended, with countless others, from our picturesque
elevation, to examine the arrangements for the general
illumination which was to follow after dark, and found
the ornamental jets, transparencies, and variegated lamps
well calculated to " make the night day " by their prodigal
effulgence.
While thus surveying the preparations for the evening,
the royal party continued their journey along Portland
92 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Street, Parker Street, Mosley Street, Peter Street, Deans-
gate, King Street, Cross Street, and through St Ann's
Square to the Exchange. The number of gazers spread
over the entire route was roughly estimated to exceed one
million.
The proceedings in the Exchange were of a very
enthusiastic description, the building being densely
crowded, notwithstanding the price of admission to the
public had been advertised at twenty shillings each
person. All the members of the Corporation, robed or
unadorned, were ranged in due order; and many in-
fluential people from neighbouring towns were present.
To the list of noble personages already given several
additions might be here made. Shortly before the
Queen's formal entrance, Mr Heron, the town-clerk,
briefly explained to the company the forms of etiquette
usually observed in the presence of royalty. The entry
of the Duke of Welhngton, with the Countess of Elles-
mere resting upon his arm, served to herald the approach
of the expected party. As Her Majesty and Prince
Albert walked to the throne, followed by the youthful
Prince and Princess, the national anthem was sung by the
choristers of the Cathedral, the vast assemblage joining
heartily in the familiar chorus. An address was then
read by the recorder (Mr Armstrong), a richly-bound
copy thereof being presented by the Mayor to Her
Majesty. Here, as at Peel Park, a similar address was
presented, unread, to Prince Albert. These addresses
were, in each instance, graciously acknowledged. An
agreeable surprise was next in store for the spectators :
the Mayor, on receiving an intimation from Earl Grey,
Royal Visit — The Great Gala Day. 93
knelt at the foot of the throne, when the Queen, placing
a sword across his shoulders, commanded him to rise —
Sir John Potter.
Little more than half an hour served to complete the
ceremonies in the Exchange, when the cortege, preceded
by Sir John, returned to Worsley by way of Exchange
Street, St Ann's Square, St Ann's Sti-eetj Deansgate,
Bridge Street, to the triumphal arch, where his worship
transferred his charge to the Mayor of Salford.
With the exception of Peel Park and Piccadilly, perhaps
St Ann's Square wore the gayest, most winsome look
during that brief celebration, which has been termed " ever
memorable." Being crossed by a double arch, the large
lamp-post forming the centre support, it presented, in the
words of the songster, " a sweet smiling heyday." A
light frame of woodwork was plentifully yet tastefully
wreathed with evergreens and flowers, bound on by broad
blue ribbon ; its illumination being also provided for by an
ample supply of lamps. Thus useful and ornamental, it
was admirably suited to the occasion, winning every one's
approval. Doubtless the triumphal arches at Victoria and
Albert Bridges were more elaborate affairs ; but does it
not seem an expensive mistake to erect for one day's
service laborious structures that might almost rival in
endurance the famous triumphal arch of Marius, yet
standing intact at Orange, near the borders of Province
and Languedoc, its recognised age being two thousand
years .'
After the departure of the royal and noble visitors, the
multitudinous gazers strolled leisurely through the princi-
pal streets of the two boroughs, making a complete tour
94 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
of inspection. As the shades of evening closed in, the
illumination, gradually extending, soon became general,
and was in many places so strikingly beautiful, that the
London press admitted the best efforts of the capital in
that direction had been eclipsed.
To enjoy the fresh attraction came a fresh influx of
strangers — as if the town were not already thronged
enough : the proverbial assurance, that much shall have
more, was exemplified with a vengeance. The occupants
of platforms, balconies, or other high places during the
day, had betaken themselves, at night, to carriages, cabs,
omnibuses, carts, with the idea of being comfortably
driven round the town at their own pace and pleasance,
whilst the pedestrians were struggling on the pathways.
Was ever an idea more fallacious ! Every vehicle within
a wide circle had been engaged. Each was placed, upon
arrival, behind its immediate predecessor, and strictly
kept, like a returned transport, under police surveillance.
In this way the front streets, from end to end, with the
openings leading thereto, were literally filled, the result
being a dead-lock. The pedestrians had a slightly better
chance of moving onward, though very slowly. We
remember seeing and sympathising with a large number
of those carriage-ridden pleasure-seekers. They sat
motionless as mummies in the darkness of a back street,
their only prospect being the gloomy churchyard or the
gloomier river, imagination meanwhile tantalising them
with the beautiful stars, beaming transparencies, brilliant
crowns, glittering devices, of the grand illumination just
beyond their ken. This last link of the extended chain
occupied the Old Apple Market, pointing towards thd;
Royal Visit — The Great Gala Day. 95
Irwell. Returning homeward in the early hours of the
watch^ we found the vehicles still there, but minus their
occupants, who had abandoned both carriages and horses,
taking wisely, though tardily, to the use of their own feet.
Not until one or two o'clock in the morning, as the streets
became relieved of wearied perambulators, could any con-
veyances make reasonable progress.
On Saturday morning, at Worsley, two or three note-
worthy incidents occurred. At eight o'clock a deputation
of the workmen's singing-classes from Manchester, under
the direction of Mr Robert Weston, arrived at the Hall to
warble a matinale under the Queen's window. Being
already afoot, Her Majesty desired the minstrels to chant
their melody within the mansion, where they acquitted
themselves to the satisfaction of all the listeners, the
sovereign lady included. They commenced with " Lo !
the early beams of morning," and this was followed by
a spirited chorale, " Now pray we for our country."
A touch of romance lends interest to this musical com-
pliment of Mr Weston's, whilst a gleam of patriotism
illuminates the chosen words : —
" Now pray we for our country,
That England long may be,
The holy, and the happy.
And the gloriously free.
" Who blesseth her is blessed !
So peace be in her walls.
And joy in all her palaces.
Her cottages and halls ! "
Scarcely had the singers departed when the Queen's
attention was drawn to another attraction. The scholars.
96 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
to the number of fourteen hundred, educated upon
the Earl of Ellesmere's estate, were congregated in the
grounds, accompanied by their teachers and ministers.
Flags, bannerets, and juvenile bands were not lacking ;
briefly, it was the Peel Park display repeated in miniature,
even to the customary address, the anthem, the cheers,
and the brilliant surroundings. After the Queen had
expressed her delight at the scene, the scholars were
marched to the landing-stage to witness the regal
embarkation in the state barges. The royal party were
accompanied to Patricroft Station by. the Earl and
Countess of Derby, the Earl and Countess of Wilton, and
other notables already named. The triumphal journey
terminated about eight o'clock the same evening at
Windsor Castle.
The store of Manchester loyalty was not quite
exhausted at Her Majesty departure : if the flame
had subsided, occasional sparks were still emitted. At
Patricroft Station, " Royal copies " of Bradshaw's " Illus-
trated Guide " and maps of the line were handed to Prince
Albert as a graceful farewell. In the wake of those
utilities followed other specimens of Manchester literature.
Books elegantly bound, stanzas daintily printed on satin,
and headed " Unfurl the proud banners," were transmitted
to the palace, written acknowledgments being returned
from London and Balmoral to the respective authors.
Other tributary bards were content to express their
devotion in the " Poet's Corner " of the newspapers, or
in the convenient form of a pamphlet' At the Exchange
on the Monday succeeding the visit, a grand ball was
held in commemoration thereof — a lengthy list of names
Royal Visit — The Great Gala Day. 97
showing that the ladies and gentlemen of the locality
freely responded to the loyal invitation to
" Come and trip it as you go
On the light fantastic toe."
Shortly afterwards (in November 185 1), the building
in which this ball was held received a new title, the
word "Royal" being officially prefixed to the name of
Manchester Exchange. Another abiding memento of
the regal visit is the marble statue of Queen Victoria
adorning Peel Park, and a large oil painting at present
hanging in the picture gallery of the same building
further illustrates the event.
Towards the close of the month of October, Commerce,
having feasted her eyes and indulged her inclinations
to the full extent, saw the necessity of resuming her
business avocations. The time had arrived when the
" working-day world " must put aside its Sunday-clothes.
So Mr Capes, the auctioneer, was forthwith summoned
to disperse (in the Town Hall), at the ominous fall of
his hammer, all the costly and magnificent paraphernalia
— even to the throne and canopy — embellishing the
Exchange. At the Salford Town Hall, on the following
day, a similar dispersing process was performed by Mr
Fletcher, who there sold the whole of the decorations used
in the Pavilion at Peel Park.
With a memory fairly retentive, we have yet sought
extraneous aid in describing the vivid realities of that
eventful Friday and its manifold surroundings. Memory,
resembling certain barristers, works all the more willingly
G
9 8 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
for an occasional " refresher ; " so we have refreshed our
recollection accordingly, mainly in the reliable yet
ephemeral literature called forth by the occasion, or
in the various newspaper reports (illustrated and other-
wise) issued at the time.
CHAPTER VIII.
ICNOT MILL.
"Behold Mancuniuni, infant town !
A straggling fort and huts fuU rude,
Deep in the forest's solitude."
"Irwell," by J. Anthony.
STANDING on the well-worn historic ground of Knot
Mill, we are confronted by historians, speculative
theorists, and bards in full congress. As we wish to wear
as little as possible of borrowed plumage, we will try to
keep clear of the " footprints " already left on our local
sands. Except by way of illustration, or occasional cor-
rection, it is not our intention to repeat matters already
familiar to every intelligent citizen. Leland, Camden,
HoUingworth, Whitaker are available for reference ; while
the inquiring spirits who seek the more modern chron-
icles may find them on the shelves of public or private
libraries. We aim rather to present items of interest over-
looked by previous writers, or that have risen to view since
the pen of our latest historian — Mr Harland — was suddenly
laid aside. We need not fear any lack of material.
Time is always bringing something to the light, — ever
lifting the lid of the old oak chest to reveal the skeleton
within. This is our recompense for all that Time keeps
100 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
taking away from our hearts and homes. We of the
present generation may consider ourselves as creditors on
Time's unavailable assets — his expended years and ex-
hausted treasures.
Of the primitive Britons, who roamed in the woodland
hereabout, few, if any, authentic remains are preserved in
the museums of the district. But their Roman vanquishers
have left indelible marks. In addition to the coins, urns,
inscribed stones, and other articles so frequently pictured
and explained, we still retain a tangible remnant of their
rude stronghold, the present appearance of which clearly
bears out the statement of the Rev. John Whitaker, that
the builders "copiously poured their mortar upon it." For
this interesting relic, nearly two thousand years old, we
are indebted to the antiquarian taste and feeling of the
late Lord Francis Egerton, afterwards Earl of Ellesmere,
who watched its safety during the excavations at Knot
Mill. He caused this fragment of the castle wall to be
supported by brickwork, and then legally secured it from
future molestation. Thus left to crumble by piecemeal
before its natural enemy, the substantial handiwork of
Agricola's soldiers bids fair to outlast many more genera-
tions of our fleeting race. We have purposely omitted to
name the exact location of the foundation-wall, because it
stands within private business premises, and too many
curious visitors would interfere with trade. Another
reason may be recorded. If every thoughtless or over-
sanguine person were to bring away a piece of the mortar
as a proof of his discovery, the praiseworthy design of
Lord Francis would be defeated, and Manchester would
Boon be deprived of its oldest historical relic. It has been
JJJL^^W^.. -
Knot Mill. loi
suggested in print that the rare antique should be im-
mediately surrounded by a substantial iron railing ; and
surely it well deserveth such cheap preservation.
Another famous castle was once constructed (by tradi-
tion) at Knot Mill, but of this we have failed to discover a
vestige. Time has dealt less tenderly with Tarquin than
with Agricola. Not a stone of the " Knot Mill Giant's
Tower " has been unearthed by delver or antiquary ; not
even a fragment of the bason or gong that was suspended
at the gate or on the wayside tree as a challenge, and
upon which Sir Lancelot du Lake rang his hollow-sound-
ing acceptance. The fight that ensued can scarcely be
considered a fair even-handed contest, such as English-
men love, seeing that the Knight of the Round Table was
aided by Viviana, the fairy of the waters — a kind of British
Undine — presumably the first of the Lancashire witches,
though Mr Halliwell would give the priority to Mother
Cuthbert, a much less winsome fay. Further, Sir Lancelot,
by sheer accident, got possession of Tarquin's magical
sword of sharpness, and the luckless giant was immediately
decapitated with his own weapon — the Fates and the fairies
being alike against him. A date has been assigned to this
celebrated duel, but as figures are fatal to all traditions,
we withhold the statistical test. Our search for a satisfy-
ing relic of Tarquin proved more successful at Chetham's
College than at Knot Mill. On the panelled ceiling of one
of the antique rooms in that institution may still be seen,
in excellent preservation, a polished oak carving of Sir
Tarquin's head, the carnivorous worthy being in the act of
enjoying his usual morning meal — that is, masticating
" somebody's darling." The victim is evidently a baby, as
I02 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
a tender limb is projecting from each side of the giant's
mouth. The metrical legend connected herewith is as old
as the reign of Elizabeth, though the local names intro-
duced are of more recent date. We name the era of
Queen Elizabeth on the authority of Bishop Percy ; but
Dr Hibbert-Ware attributes it to " a humble and anony-
mous minstrel of the reign of James the First." Either
way, a year or two may be all the difference. As the
present version does not appear in any of the histories of
the town or county, and is absent from the various books
of Lancashire ballads, it may be welcomed in the pages of
these Memorials : —
THE ANCIENT BALLAD OF SIR TARQUIN.
" Within this ancient British land,
In Lancashire, I understand,
Near Manchester, there lived a knight of fame.
Of a prodigious strength and might.
Who vanquished many a worthy knight,
A giant great, and Tarquin was his name.
" And in those days sprang up a precious gem.
Who wore the golden diadem —
Prince Arthur, lawful heir of Britain's king.
Who, for the honour of all Christendom,
Twelve bloody battles fierce he won,
Whose name and fame throughout the world did ring.
" Full many a valiant nobleman
Resorted to Prince Arthur then —
Such warlike fame was nowhere to be found —
Their lives and fortunes prostrating
Unto that most victorious king,
And styled themselves Knights of the Table Round.
Knot Mill. 103
" A valiant knight amongst the rest,
Whose noble acts I find expressed, —
His name recorded is Lancelot du Lake ;
A mighty giant he pulled down,
Who lived near Shrewsbury's fair town,
With his keen sword his life away did take.
" When fortune thus on him did smile.
And he had rested him awhile,
To sport and play within his princely court.
Till of such tidings he did hear
From out of famous LancEishire,
He thither rode to see some princely sport.
" From Winchester he's gone with speed,
Well mounted on his stately steed,
Until at length to the Hoozend he came.
Where he good entertainments found
At noble Mosley's, then renowned,
Who lived there in great repute and fame.
" Then did he ride through a cloudy desert wild,
Frequented by no man or child,
Where stately trees have lain since Noah's flood ;
Firwood and oak, there to be found,
AH in that deluge then renowned.
Deep buried there, within that trembling mud.
" Then did he ride through a forest wide.
Until a damsel he espied,
Who asked his business and required his name.
' My name is Lancelot dU Lake,
Who venture for my country's sake.'
Said she, ' Great sir, all countries spread your fame ;
" ' And I wUl tell you of a knight,
Of a prodigious strength and might.
Who has imprisoned threescore knights and four.
Knights of King Arthur's Table Round,
In chains and fetters he keeps bound ;
Such villainy I ne'er did hear before.' ^
I04 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
" Then did this trusty fair maid-guide
Conduct him to a river-side
Near the Knot Mills— this knight of great renown,
And straight up to the castle gate,
Where Tarquin long had taken up his seat,
In the Lodge fields, near Manchester fair town.
" Likewise she showed him to a tree,
Which he rode up to valiantly,
Whereon there hung a copper bason fair ;
Within this bason it was writ —
' Who values not his life a whit,
Let him adventure to strike on't if he dare.'
" This did Sir Lancelot so provoke,
He struck so hard, the bason broke ;
Immediately when Tarquin heard the sound.
He drove a horse before him straight.
Whereon a knight, both sick and weak.
Upon that horse he brought with him fast bound.
" ' Villain ! ' said Lancelot, ' worst of men,
Hast brought this object from thy den.
This poor distressed knight, weak and unable ?
I'll make thee know before we part.
And likewise give thee thy desert.
For wronging thus the Knights of the Round Table.*
" Then from the Ravenous these words did sound —
' If thou be of the Table Round,'
Said Tarquin, speedily,
' And hither come in rage and spite.
In single combat me to fight.
Both thee and them I utterly defy,'
" ' That's over much,' Sir Lancelot replied ;
' I'll quickly tame thy. haughty pride.'
Crouching their spears, they at each other ran,
With ghastly looks most furiously.
Resolved their manhood for to try.
More like two savage beasts than sons of men.
Knot Mill. 105
" They wounded were, and bled full sore,
Each wrestling in his princely gore ;
Then willingly for breath they both did stand,
Till Tarquin he began to relent,
When breath was lost and blood was spent.
And said, ' Brave knight, I pray thee hold thy hand ;
" ' And tell to me what knight thou art —
Thou art a knight of great desert,
And like a knight I hate most mortally ;
I'll freely grant thee thy request,
Likewise deliver all the rest.
Upon condition that thou art not he.'
" ' That's well then,' Lancelot replied,
' Thy proffer cannot be denied ;
But unto me his name I pray thee tell.'
' His name is Lancelot du Lake, —
Thoughts of him make my heart to ache ;
He slew my brother, whom I loved well ;
'"I wish I had that villain here,
I'd make him pay for it fuU dear.'
' Thy wish thou hast — I'm Lancelot du Lake ;
I slew thy brother manfully
Near to the town of Shrewsbury.'
Quoth Tarquin, ' Now my hfe lies at stake.'
" Then to 't they went with downright blows,
Who gets the victory no one knows :
Like furies they did fight with might and main ;
The echoes of their blows resound —
Their horses slain, they fought on ground.
Resolving one or both for to be slain ;
" Till Tarquin, then, for want of breath
And loss of blood, yielded to death,
His life resigned upon that fatal day ;
Then taking keys of the castle door.
From prison threescore knights and four
With cheerful hearts the victor brought away.
io6 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
" Thus have 1 for my country's sake
Adventured all these pains to take,
Hoping they wiU my labours gratify
For bringing ancient things to light ;
Here in this book I now do write,
Trusting they may some profit find thereby."
We have transcribed the foregoing Manchester ballad
from a privately-printed volume, " Family Memoirs of
the Mosleys," written by the late Baronet, whose literary
plan might be advantageously adopted by others* Why
should not every family with a history possess an
extended and illustrated " Debrett " of its own ? If the
record can be enriched with a metrical legend, so much
the rarer. Who shall estimate th6 valUe of " Chevy Chase "
to the Perciesi or of the "Luck of Eden Hall" to the
Musgraves, or of the " Eagle and Child " to the House of
Stanley ? To Lancashire folks, the Eagle and Child is
virtually the Derby arms ; they need no other, the popular
legend being all-sufficient ; and to this favourite emblem
they are sans changer. Often have we marvelled that the
tradition of the Eagle and Child, narrated so frequently in
prose, has not yet been versified in true ballad measure.
Once or twice we have been on the verge of attempting to
forge the missing and connecting link ; but as there is now
no Manchester Catnach to pay half-a-crown for the copy-
right, nor any Ned Wrigley to fiddle it along the high-
ways and byways to the great joy of the Bohemians, we
have lost heart in the subject — and heartiness is every-
* Sir Oswald Mosley died at his seat, RoUeston Hall, Staffordshire, in May
1871, in his eighty-seventh year. The following October saw RoUeston Hall
wellnigh destroyed by fire.
Knot Mill. 107
thing in a ballad for the million. Compared with such
metrical reliques of legendary lore^^and keeping in view
the expressed purpose of floating the family name — of
what earthly use to the forgotten builders are the ever-
lasting Pyramids? Coming nearer home, take a peep
into Mottram Church, where a glance at the sculptured
figures now jestingly termed "Old Rowe and his Wife"
will reveal the ultimate uselessness of a costly monument,
even when formed of the purest marble. Better to imitate
the example of the Ladye of Branksome ; summon the
Last Minstrel, and seek in his heart-felt lay the envied
elixir of life and remembrance so vainly sought elsewhere.
In Sir Oswald Mosley's book a fanciful idea of our own
is partly embodied. We have frequently thought how
charming it would be to sing, or say, or portray the glories
of our ancient house — supposing us to be allied to the
"old nobilitie" extolled by my Lord John Manners.
How gratifying, forsooth, to our feeling of nationality, to
our justifiable pride of home, could we linger in our
portrait gallery, after the manner of Sir Roger de
Coverley, and narrate the story of each venerated ancestor,
as he or she silently, but none the less eloquently, surveyed
and encouraged our exertions ! Such domestic stories —
blending occasionally with the national chronicles — we
might reveal in plenty. Some romantic episode, some
touching trait, attaches to the life of every man ; and where
is the woman to whom romance or pathos is a stranger ?
So far as practicable, we would tell the tale — with the
pen or upon the easel — on the spot where the incident
occurred. If treating of the Vernons, and of Dorothy in par-
ticular, we would sit beside her doorway (now half ruined.
io8 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
and wholly encompassed with ivy), and muse beneath the
same stars and the same moon that silvered the path of
the devoted maiden. Thus inspired, it were easy to show,
with due effect, the lady's secret flight from Haddon Hall ;
her hasty passage along the terrace ; her exit by the
famous steps (pictured a thousand times) ; and the com-
pletion of her elopement within the shadow of friendly
trees — leaving home and all for love.
Although the mill which gives a secondary title to this
chapter is moderately old, it cannot be traced to King
Canute— ^the assumed sponsor to numerous knots and knuts
throughout the country. There is little doubt it was built
in the beginning of the sixteenth century, when it was
termed Hulme's Mill. A licence, dated loth November
1509, to construct a dam, was granted to Elyse Prestwych
by Thomas West, Lord de la Warr. In 1552, at the
Court Leet, " Edmund Prestwyche, Esq., is ordered to take
down a yate between the town of Manchester and the
[river] of Medlock, near unto Holms Mill, afore the Feast
of St Martin in winter. Three shillings and fourpence "
[penalty]. Again, in 1601, " That Edmund Prestwiche,
Esq., shall take down a yate between the town of Man-
chester and the Water of Medlock, near unto Hulme's
Mylne. Three shillings and sixpence." Squire Prest-
wich seems to have had infinite trouble with the said yate,
which perversely withstood the official orders, until, in
1603, a fine of twenty shillings was imposed. Some years
prior to the latter date, the mill was in the possession of
" John Knott, of Knott Mylne," who was buried on the 8th
of May 1597; and hence originated the appellation still
existent. In 1623 the Court Leet records, in defining the
LET OF THE RIVER TIB AT GAYTHOKN. 1823.
Knot Mill. 109
boundaries of the town, allude to " Knot Bridge, towards
Hulme." Leaping to the middle of January 1793, we
find the mill was destroyed by fire. On the loth of
December 1799, the subjoined advertisement appeared
in the Mercury : — " To be sold by auction, all that capital
mill commonly called or known by the name of Knot
Mill, in Manchester, with a four-stalled stable and cart-
house nearly adjoining the same ; together with the
machinery for grinding logwood, fustick, &c., provided
with a powerful steam-engine of a cylinder of twenty-four
inches ; and four French millstones fit for grinding flour,
&c. All which premises were lately occupied by Joshua
Wrigley and Company, and are subject only to a small
chief or ground rent of twenty-eight pounds and sixpence
per annum. The land upon which the above buildings are
erected, with the vacant land adjoining, contains three
thousand three hundred and sixty-three square yards."
The last occupant of the mill, Mr Johnson, died in 1810.
A portion of the old wall still remains in its original
position, and is incorporated with the factory formerly
known as Mr Cough's. The outlines of two windows, on the
Hulme side, are plainly discernible, though now bricked up.
In Hewitt Street, at its most distant point from Knot
Mill, our diminutive underground river, the Tib, may
still be seen emerging from its obscurity to embrace the
Medlock. After its escape from beneath a segmental arch
of brick, it has an open course of nearly one hundred yards,
when it enters the larger stream. The builder's yard in
which the brook emerges, and sometimes overflows, may
be entered from Hewitt Street as aforesaid, but only upon
sufferance, and not too often. Here, as at the castle
I lo Memorials of Manchester Streets.
wall, curiosity will find itself a trespasser ; and in order
that its mysterious movements may be duly watched, the
labourer will rest upon his spade, whilst the joiner checks
his saw in the middle of the plank, and the boy's hammer
is suddenly silenced before the nail is driven to the head.
A poor prisoner from its source near Miles Platting, the
Tib seems the Silvio Pellico of rivulets, while lacking the
prison flower to alleviate its gloom. Yet once it had a
cluster of pleasant homesteads on its unculverted banks.
This was "Labeiye's Ffould," sometimes called "ye Labarey
Howses," which stood nearly upon the spot where York
Street crosses Mosley Street, but below the present sur-
face level. The origin of the place is indicated by a Court
Leet entry in the year 1586 : — "That one Thomas Baylie
hath encroached in the Market stid lane near to the way to
Labrey's house." A still earlier notice of the family name
appears in Baines, to the effect that Stephen Hulme, of
Hulme, married, in 1524, Alice, daughter and co-heiress to
Robert Labrey. Onwards, from the former date, the nest-
ling fold and its residents are frequently mentioned in the
Cathedral registers ; but they disappeared together from
those useful chronicles when the modern streets were
formed and the Tib was culverted. It seems the Tib
wandered through the town, open and harmless enough, in
the time of Tim Bobbin ; for he banters Whitaker for ele-
vating a brook into a river, and avers that, on reading the
reverend -historian's florid description, he w^ent to view the
Tib, but could not find one drop of water in it, except
some purple liquid issuing from a dyehouse. So we may
assume the Milnrow pedagogue postponed his angling or
boating diversion.
Knot Mill.
II I
" Many estates in Manchester," writes Mr Aston, " have
this petite river for their boundaries ; and the name of
River Tib is to be found in many writings by which the
possessors claim a right to hold their property. In all pro-
bability, a few more years will make the existence of such
a stream, dignified as it has been by the name of river, a
matter of doubt, and perhaps the report classed with the
legend of Sir Lancelot's killing the giant in Castle Field."
To prevent this prophecy from falling literally true, we
have summoned our artist to the rescue.
Humphreys' Garden, bounded on one side by Alport
Lane (now the upper end of Deansgate), was familiar to
our great-grandsires. The sudden decease of the original
proprietor was announced in Harrop's Mercury of April
5i 1757 ; ^i^d the same print, twenty-one years later, con-
tains the following advertisement anent his floral acres : —
"To be sold, all that plot of land called Humphreys'
Garden, now divided into twenty gardens." A final notice
of the latest owner appears in the register of burials for
July 1782, as thus : — "Robert Humphreys, of Humphreys'
Gardens, Knot Mill." But long before the advent of the
Humphreys family, the gardens and orqhards, the stiles
and the field-paths, " lying in y" Deane'sgate," formed the
subject-matter of frequent arrangements in the ancient
manorial courts.
To us there is a charm in the quaint oldrfashioned names
and places which the city has ruthlessly swallowed up,
and we like to point them out atid linger over them.
CHAPTER IX.
aldport: its lodge and park.
" Hath sentinel of stern Cromwell
E'er watched thine ancient hall ?
Thine olden bower hath seen the hour
Of royal Charles' fall ;
; O'er thy threshold hath warrior bold
E'er passed with manly tread ?
Have drums e'er beat around thy seat,
Or martial banners spread ? "
Elijah Ridings.
IF it be true that one man in his time may play many
parts, as an old favourite, still young, has averred, it
is equally certain that one locality, in the lapse of ages,
may bear many names. Aldport is a case in point. As
Aldeparc, Aldport, Over Alporde, Nether Alteport, Al-
porton, Hooperton, and lastly Alport Town, it has been
locally known. Still more marked is its change of every
feature. Well may we speak of Time working wonders.
Let any inquiring pedestrian (the New Zealander, it may
be, when weary of moralising on London Bridge) tra-
verse the ground assigned to ancient Aldport. Commenc-
ing at Quay Street, let him proceed along the present
Deansgate to the Medlock at Knot Mill, thence cross-
ways from the Irwell to the Tib. When he has explored
the labyrinth of high prison-like walls until utterly sur-
Aldport: its Lodge and Park. 113
feited with the " endless meals of bricks," bid him, while
taking reasonable rest and refreshment, try to realise the
sylvan heritage of the Gresleys, the La Warres, the
Derbys, the Mosleys. The wood of Aldport (say the
Manchester archives, as their contents reach us through
Kuerden and Harland) comprised a mile in circum-
ference; mention being also made of its eyries of spar-
row-hawks, its herons, and eagles, and honey of bees.
At the survey of the manor in 1322, Aldport contained
ninety-five acres ; thirty of these being heath, twenty
pasture, and two meadow-land. The Medlock ran glit-
tering through the middle of the lord's fee. A still earlier
reference occurs in a paper contributed by the late Sir
Oswald Mosley to " Corry's History of Lancashire,"
wherein it is stated that Robert Grelle, in 1281-82 died
seised (amongst various effects) of a small' park called
Aldeparc. Passing from this family to the La Warres,
the noble and reverend owner gave it, with other pro-
perty, in 142 1, to the newly-coUegiated church. Soon
afterwards the park and the lodge contained therein
were held by the Warden, and continued to be enjoyed
by his successors in office until the dissolution of the
College in 1 547, when the King granted them, with other
of the church lands, to Edward third Earl of Derby. A
little later, there arose a snug fold of homesteads on the
site of the present Alport Town : on the Castle Field side
stood the park. It was here, in 1586, that Camden saw
the foundation of the Roman stronghold ; and here, like-
wise, that Leland made his earlier observations while
passing through the town. To these antiquarian chiefs
we lift our modern cap. The lodge was placed near the
H
114 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
ground of our existing hay-market. These positions have
been indicated in the " Family Memoirs of the Mosleys."
As Edward " Lord of Darby " (so the quaint itinerist
styled him) was essentially the Manchester Earl, a brief
outline of his eventful career will prove interesting to
Manchester readers. Some lives t6em with romance,
while others are eventless and barren. Earl Edward
belonged to the first division, a series of striking scenes
marking his progress through life. Resembling a fav-
ourite actor, he seemed always performing — seldom absent
from the stage. His father, the second Earl, dying in
152 1, during the minority of his son, left the young heir
to the guardianship of Cardinal Wolsey and divers others,
minutely set forth in the " History of the House of Stanley."
Wolsey, it appears, had read the nursery story of the
children in the wood, profiting thereby after the manner
of the selfish uncle, and forthwith lined his own nest with
some of the feathers belonging to his young ward. On
coming of age in 1527, the Earl was appointed by Henry the
Eighth to attend this same Cardinal on an embassy to the
French king. Five years later he waited upon Henry at
his interview with Francis the First at Boulogne, and at
the coronation of Queen Anne Boleyn : in the same year
he was made a Knight of the Bath. On the revolt of
the Northern men, termed the Pilgrimage of Grace, he
promptly raised the forces of Lancashire and Cheshire,
and subdued the insurrection. On the accession of
Edward the Sixth, the Earl was elected a Knight of the
Garter, and at the close of that brief reign he was ap-
pointed Lord High Steward of England by Queen Mary.
Upon receiving this appointment he set out from Lathom,
Aldport: its Lodge and Park. 1 1 5
most nobly attended, to meet Her Majesty, having in his
retinue, says the family historian, "upwards of eighty
esquires, all clad in velvet, and two hundred and eighteen
servants in liveries." Those were the days when Earls
were sometimes king-makers. When Elizabeth ascended
the throne, she created him Chamberlain of Chester, with
a seat at her Privy Council. While holding the latter
offices, the Earl's connection with Manchester grew closer,
and he took the active control of local affairs as High
Steward of the Court Leet, Weaning himself from
London life, we find his name recorded, year by year, as
the Baron's presiding officer, or judge, until 1567, when,
on account of declining health, he selected a deputy to
act in his stead. Finally,' quitting his lodge and "new
park " at Aldport, he retired to his country seat, Lathom
House, whence was written his last letter on Manchester
affairs, dated 19th of July 1572, only three months prior
to his decease. Thus ended his prosperous career, at the
age of sixty-six. We can scarcely state, in closing this his-
tory, that the Earl was duly gathered, like Abraham, to his
fathers, inasmuch as the family resting-place in Burscough
Priory had been rendered useless by the demolition of
that monastic edifice. " Only two pillars belonging to
the centre arch," Mr Roby informs us, " are now remain-
ing." The Earl, after lying in state six weeks, was in-
terred, in obedience to his will, in a new tomb within
Ormskirk Church; and thither, in turn, his descendants
have been silently conveyed, even to the recent Baron,
Edward Geoffrey, who was as good and as great, accord-
ing to the spirit of his age, as was his Manchester pre-
decessor of three hundred years ago.
1 16 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
From the Adlington MSS., preserved in the Chetham
Library, we derive a metrical tribute which will be wel-
come for its rarity. It was written, presumably, by a
member of the Legh family, during the reign of Queen
Elizabeth.
"AN EPITAPH
UPON THE DeATHE OF THE RIGHT HONORABLE EDWARD ERLE OF
Derby and Knight of y'^ moste honorable Order of
THE Garter who deceased the xxiiij™ day of October
1572.
"Beholde heare lyeth closed in claye a wight of worthy fame
Of lordly line of statly stocke and Standle was his name
In Man he ruled as a kinge and theire did use suche holesome lawe
As those that guided under him w' ease kepte theim in awe
He also Earle of Derbye was as his forefathers were
Whear he no lesse auctoritye then they before did beare
Then Knlghte of Garter he was made a order sure
Lo his deserte as princes handes suche fauo' did procure
But liuinge in prospertie deuoyde of care and stryfe
And fortune fauoringe thus on him in maner all his lyfe
Colde pompous pryde or glorye darre from vertue drawe his minde
No he wolde not degenerat from that he was by kinde
Or did he sease to ayde the poore w' meat w' tonge w' hande
No sure his lyke for all respectes was not w'in this lande
How manye lame and impotente did he w' payne and toyle
Reduce unto theire yfecte healthe w'in theire country soyle
How manye did he daylie feede whome nede did pinch before
How manie haue ye nowe a dayes so careful! for the poore
How liberall was he to his men how careful! for his friende
How good unto his tenante still euen unto his latter ende
O god his faythe unto his prince surmountinge was alwayes
As well was proued by that he did in these his later dayes
All vertuous actes he did embrace and vyces did deteste
What shoulde I saye amongest the good he was accompted beste
Which causeth now the poore to mourne w' manye weepinge eye
His men his frendes his tenaunte eke to playntes theimselfes applye
Aldport : its Lodge and Park. 1 1 7
Our noble Queene bewayleth the losse of suche a precious perle
A thousande times (no dowte she sayth) he was a worthye Erie
In helthe and sicknes well he liued and well he toke his ende
Wolde God eiche one wolde learne by him his spotted lyfe tamende
The heauens nowe doe possesse his soule the earth his corps retaynes
His passed lyfe a spectacle for others yet remaynes."
Several competent authorities inform us that the Derby-
property at Aldport was sold by William,, the sixth Earl,
in 1599, to Sir Randle Brereton, who immediately re-sold
it, and in 1602 it passed to the Mosley family, in whose
possession the sylvan acres long remained. But, previous
to the introduction of fresh characters, suppose we add
a small scene showing the primitive sport and pastime of
our fore fathers and mothers. During several reigns the
archery butts in Alport Lane (merged in Deansgate in
1812) were almost an institution of the town. Other butts
were affixed at Old Garratt. At these targets the males
were expected — ^yea, commanded — to practise daily, in
order that they might be enabled to emulate their heroic
ancestors who triumphed at Cressy and Poictiers. During
the reign of Elizabeth archery gradually declined, until
iat length it became superseded by Brown Bess and the
ramrod. Another reason has been vouchsafed for the
occasional neglect of the butts. It would seem that the
daughters of Eve were as tempting at Aldport as their
mother had been in Eden ; and it was no uncommon thing
for the beaux to forsake their arrows for the purpose of
toying with the shafts of Cupid.
Aldport Lodge and Park, with the fields adjoining, were
peacefully ranged and enjoyed by the Mosleys until the
breaking out of the civil war in 1642, when Lord Strange,
1 1 8 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
at the invitation of the owner,, fixed his headquarters in
the old home. "Thus we come to Manchester siege, of
which I will not give a full and particular account, because
it is already performed by several good hands." So says
a curious pamphlet of that period, " Lancashire's Valley
of Achor ; " and so may we repeat. " The time when it
began," continues the same original authority, "was
September the five-and-twentieth, the Sabbath-day, about
nine of the clock, church time." Indeed, the worshippers
were called from the sermon to confront the invaders. An
attack was made upon the town from the lodge, simulta-
neously with another from the foot of Salford Bridge. In
the previous July a few skirmishes had taken place between
Lord Strange and the inhabitants of Manchester, during
which was shed the first blood of the disastrous civil war.
To us the affray at the old bridge has always seemed
(though we can scarcely account for the fancy) a mere
playing at soldiers — a kind of Autumn Manoeuvre. It is
true that one warrior was slain on the Manchester side.
The besiegers also killed a boy who was sitting on a stile
innocently watching fair play. One of the defenders was
accidentally shot by an impatient gun, that went off before
it was presented at the enemy. These three apparently
constituted the Puritan loss during the six days' siege.
In the published letter of an eye-witness the number is
raised to four, " whereof two being by accident, and two
by the enemy." A few outlying houses were set on fire,
and, under cover of the smoke, the cavaliers attempted
to enter the town, but failed. Perhaps the uncertain aim
and weak blows of the Royalists may be attributed, in
some measure, to the indecision of their humane chief,
Aldport: its Lodge and Park. 119
who really wished to frighten the townsfolk into submis-
sion without hurting them — one day threatening, the next
conciliating. His party did not escape so easily as their
opponents. Among other casualties, Captain Standish of
Duxbury was shot while standing at a door in Serjeant
(now Chapel) Street. The Captain's men, on seeing the
dangerous nature of the position, hastily decamped. At
Aldport, the cannon planted by order of the Earl played
— " they did but play, they did no work "—down Deans-
gate, until the balls " made several holes in divers houses,
and beat down part of a chimney, but little damage else
was done" — a statement derived from John Palmer. From
these accounts it is not difficult to gather that the Earl,
resembling a needle between two magnets, was paralysed
between the will and the way. Sent to treat the, Mances-
trians as enemies, he felt them to be neighbours who ought
to be friends. With these amiable predilections, his cannon
was reduced to mere " sound and fury, signifying nothing,"
while his sword, whichsoever way he pointed it, wounded
himself. The return shot of the townsmen and their rustic
auxiliaries (who had " but one small peece ") set fire to
Aldport Lodge, which was burned down, and never rebuilt.
At what date its ruins were removed we are unaware ; nor
have we been able to trace a resemblance of the mansion
in any stage of its existence. On the evening of the sixth
day. Lord Strange (who had then succeeded his father as
the seventh Earl of Derby) withdrew his forces, with a
lost vaguely estimated .at two hundred. So ended the
short siege of Manchester. "There was little harvest
weather that week," adds our jubilant Puritan guide ; " it
was not reaping work, but threashing work." In his
I20 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
peculiar phraseology, we may now " sweetly conclude this
comfortable historie."
It may be thought that we have treated this historic
incident in a light spirit ; but if so, every trace of frivolity
vanishes as we turn to the closing scene in Bolton market-
place, where the unfortunate Earl paid the highest penalty
for his devotion to a gentle and good-intentioned, but
weak monarch, who could not resist the evil influence of
sinister advisers. And when we extend our view to the
sable block at Whitehall, where that monarch hirnself
perished, we feel the full force of the impressive lessons
which life is ever teaching to man.
On taking down the timbers of the chancel roof of
Bolton Church there was found, upon the centre boss, a
rude carving of the Three Legs of Man, along with the
representation of an axe having a formidable blade. This
shows that the chancel was re-roofed shortly after the
execution of the Earl, while the event was fresh in the
minds of the people, who thus handed it down to posterity.
These timbers were lying in Bolton churchyard during
1870-71, until finally sold as waste wood. Of the rude
carving Mr Owen has preserved a sketch, which he made
while the boss was lying in the yard. Our artist, Mr
Winkfield, though desirous of making the sketch more
pleasing, has retained the facsimile character of the
amateur carving.
At Aldport, on the supposition of the Rev. John
Whitaker, there stood, in the early centuries of the Chris-
tian era, a Saxon church dedicated to St Michael. With
that supposition we are unable to coincide ; and yet we
are loth to express dissent, when it is so much easier,
RUDE CARVING ON A CHURCH BOSS.
Aldport : its Lodge and Park. 1 2 1
so much more agreeable, to swim with the tide of opinion
than to press against its stream. Let us see how the case
stands, pro and con, as the Latin says. Leland, on
visiting Manchester during the reign of Henry the Eighth,
observed — " Yet is in hit but one paroch church, but is a
college." Hollingworth thus wrote : — " Shortly after Man-
chester and a large compasse of ground neere to it was
made a parish, at which time the parish Assheton-under-
Lyme was within the parish of Manchester ; but afterward
[prior to 1291, according to the new edition of Baines]
it became a parish of it selfe, and yet was in the donation
of the lord of Manchester." Again, "Doomsday booke
mencions a church called St Maries in Manchester, and a
church called St Michaels, tho of this latter I find not the
least memorial ; probably these two churches stood in one
churchyard, as Paul's and Gregory's in London." In the
first volume of the new edition of Baines it is stated that
Thomas Greslet, in March 1309, made a formal grant of
"the advowson of the churches of Mamecestre and Ashton-
under-Lyme to John la Warre, Knight, and Joan, his
wife." St Michael's was first associated with Aldport by
Whitaker in this wise :— " When the Saxons of Manchester
were converted to the faith of the Britons among them,
they would naturally repair immediately to the old parish
church of the latter, and one denominated St Michael's
existed pretty plainly (as I shall show hereafter) among
the Saxons in Aldport." The after-showing was simply a
conjecture that Knot Mill Fair was commemorative of the
church's feast of dedication : in this conjecture Hibbert-
Ware coincided. Whitaker failed to trace the origin of
Knot Mill Fair, which still, we believe, remains a mystery.
122 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Subsequent writers have followed easily in Whitaker's
wake, almost taking for granted that the said church
existed at Aldport, without producing any foundation for
the edifice to rest upon. A recent independent doubt,
partly coinciding with Hollingworth, was raised in a foot-
note of Harland's " Mamecestre : " — " It has been suggested,"
observes that author, " that St Mary's [St Michael's ?] was
not in Manchester at all, but only under Manchester, and
at Ashton-under-Lyne, both advowsons being long held by
the barons of Mamecestre, and Ashton church or chapel
being appendant to that of Manchester." Two antiquarian
students (John Owen and the late John Higson), anxious
for a clearer knowledge, have searched into the mysteries
of St Michael as indefatigably as the brothers Lander
explored the secrets of the Niger. Referring to ancient
documents, they found various allusions to Aldparc, but no
mention whatever of a neighbouring place of worship; and
although the older castle had left its name indelibly on a
"Field," neither field nor fold throughout the locality had
preserved the name of a church or of St Michael. Supported
by these facts, they arrived at the conclusion that the sacred
edifice named in " Doomsday book " was never situated at
Aldport, but rather at Ashton, where, after suffering the
natural mutations of time, St Michael's Church still
remains. The two antiquaries considered, further, that
Whitaker's error had occurred through his failing to remem-
ber that Ashton was included in the parish of Manchester
at the date of the " Doomsday " survey.
About the corner of Priestner Street (converted to
Liverpool Road in 1812) stood the shop of Mr John
Holland, greengrocer, which was attacked by a riotous
Aldport : its Lodge and Park. 123
mob on the 21st of April in the year just cited, when
sundry provisions were forcibly carried away. Several
of the rioters were captured. At that period, Manchester,
resembhng many other places, was in a dangerous state
of excitement. Disturbances known as " Ludditing," and
aiming chiefly at the destruction of machinery, were of
frequent occurrence. Commencing at Nottingham, the
mischief had spread over several manufacturing counties.
The Deansgate riot and the Middleton fight were pro-
ceeding simultaneously. About the same time the
farmers' produce in our market-place was seized by a
lawless multitude. Runners and constables were placed
upon extra duty ; our amateur defenders, known as the
" Watch and Ward," displayed their imposing weapons ;
while the military — no longer a standing army — was
hurried from town to village, and vice versa, by forced
marches. Although we, the chronicler hereof, were
"looming in the future" in 18 12, we witnessed similar
scenes in the model privation year 1826, and again in
1829 ; so we are enabled to realise the Luddite tumults
with sufficient vividness. Provisions were excessively
dear and scarce in consequence of the long-protracted
war, and many charitable efforts were made to alleviate
the distress. In Miller Street a soup-house was opened,
where useful articles were sold to the poor at reduced
prices. Still discontent prevailed. As a proof of the
bitterness of feeling which existed amongst the working
class against any one in authority, it may be mentioned
that a sergeant of militia, named John Moore, who had
been active in the performance of his duty, was murdered,
together with a female relation, upon Ancoats Bridge;
124 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
and the bodies were thrown over the parapet into the
canal. The sergeant and his companion left the King's
Arms, Great Ancoats Street, about twelve o'clock on the
Saturday night. Soon afterward a cry of " Murder " arose
at the Canal Bridge, where several men were observed
hastening away. Marks of pipe-clay were noticed upon
the parapet; and in the water beneath the two bodies
were found early on Sunday morning. The date of this
double murder was loth May 1812. The perpetrators of
the crime escaped detection, notwithstanding a reward of
two hundred pounds was offered by the authorities.
Towards the close of the same month a special com-
mission was opened at Lancaster. During the trials it
transpired that several persons had received threaten-
ing letters, signed "N. Ludd, secretary to a Luddite
Society ; " and that one of the ringleaders had been dig-
nified with the title of General Ludd. Many prisoners
were arraigned, and charged with participating in the
riots. Some of these were acquitted, others being sen-
tenced to various terms of imprisonment or transporta-
tion ; but the eight unfortunates undernamed were
severally found guilty and condemned : — John Howarth,
thirty ; John Lee, forty-six ; Thomas Hoyle, twenty-
seven ; for breaking into the house of John Holland,
Deansgate. Job Fletcher, thirty-four ; Abraham Charlson,
sixteen ; Thomas Kerfoot, twenty-six ; James Smith,
thirty-one ; for setting fire to a weaving-mill at
Westhoughton ; and Hannah Smith, fifty-four, for riot-
ing and seizing potatoes at Bank Top. The sentences
were carried out to the letter, without a single reprieve, on
Saturday, i6th June, about the meridian hour. Abraham
ANCOATS OLD HALL.
A Idport : its Lodge and Park. 125
Charlson was the boy, so often alluded to in print, who
called loudly and tearfully, when upon the scaffold, for his
mother to come and save him. We have seen the place —
the scene, as an actor or a painter would say — of this
wholesale hanging. It is a dark heart-saddening corner
at the back of Lancaster Castle, immediately overlooking
St Mary's hillside churchyard. From their elevated posi-
tion, the doomed ones would unite the gallows and the
grave in their last searching view — a gloomy prospect,
notwithstanding the chequered gleam of hope beyond.
Of the four hundred thousand (in round numbers)
persons now overcrowding the city, how many, or rather
how few, are aware of the pathos, the romance, the
poetry underlying the commercial life of their own
dwelling-place? Truly has it been observed, in effect,
that history, when faithfully and vividly rendered, forms
the most beautiful and touching of all romances.
If we cannot adorn our page, as we wish, with a picture
of historical Aldport Lodge, we are enabled to present,
in lieu thereof, a pleasing view of another Manchester
seat of the Mosleys — Ancoats Old Hall. It has been
briefly described by Mr George Richardson, author of
" Patriotism, and other Poems," who was born in the
vicinity of the ancient mansion.
"Ancoats Old Hall was situated one mile east of
Manchester. Let it be understood that by this we mean
that the frontal fa5ade looked to the west. We have the
authority of Dr Whitaker to say that the house was of
Saxon origin, and the name is derived from Anna, the
proper name of a man, and cota, a cottage. We regret
that, after much and diligent research into old books of
126 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
the Chetham Library, we have not been able to discover
when or by whom the edifice was erected. Neither Dr
Whitaker, Aiken, Baines, nor Wheeler make any mention
of this ; nor does it appear in a late work by Sir Oswald
Mosley, Bart., entitled ' Family Memoirs of the Mosleys,'
printed for private circulation. About 1587, we find in
this work, by a view of the edifice at that period, that it
was much the same as the annexed illustration, only that
the grounds in front were simply open, with large trees
on the spectator's left, and smaller ones, with shrubbery,
upon the right.
" Within the pale of our own experience, on the site of
the present Every Street (probably named after Sir
Edward Every), stood Love Lane, with its ivy-mantled
cottages and green hedgerows — a pleasant rustic walk,
and favourite solitude for lovers to pass ' the tender hour ; '
hence its name. The locality was altogether picturesque ;
the lane commanded a sweet variety of scenes to the
south-east; fertile valleys and meadows, and here and
there the gleaming bosom of the Medlock might be seen
circling its way, 'singing a song of peace by many a
cottage home.' Beyond the river, undulating land, with
clumps of trees lifting up their various-tinted heads;
humble homesteads were scattered upon the scene, and
smoke, the indication of inan's habitation, was seen
circling in relief from the quiet glory of the hills which
enfolded the landscape. . . . The fascination is over ; the
hand of time and change have fallen upon it — the scene is
faded — the Old Hall is no more."
CHAPTER X.
DEAN SG ATE AND ITS BYWAYS.
" No trace is left of the invading Dane,
Or the armed followers of the Norman knight ;
Gone is the dwelling of the Saxon thane,
And lord and baron with their feudal might ;
The ancient Irwell holds his course alone,
And washes still Mancunium's base of stone. "
J. B. ROGERSON.
AS we pass leisurely along historical Deansgate — the
■*^ tiny birthplace of the now overgrown city — we will
briefly note the derivations of its byways, when we
happen to know them. As regards the derivation of
Deansgate, we are unable to satisfy ourselves, and there-
fore cannot hope to satisfy others. Various and conflicting
are the origins given. One authority informs us that the
street derived its name, in the year 634, from the rural
dean. Another is equally certain that the place was
nameless until A.D. 870, when the Danes seized Manchester,
leaving their name behind them to indicate their line of
march and conquest. A third historian Would induce us
to believe the true etymology is dene, meaning a valley or
sheltered place — a most unsatisfying hypothesis, because
in this way each town built upon undulating ground might
claim half a dozen Dene-gates. We must allow the
1 28 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
reader to take his choice, and adopt the source that
pleases him most.
Tonman Street (probably the newest of all the lengthy
line) was so called in compliment to the mother of the
lord of the manor, and hkewise as a remembrancer of his
second son, the present baronet, Sir Tonman Mosley.
The name does not appear in the street list of our
Directories prior to the year 1824. In this street was dis-
covered, in the year 1839, a bronze statuette of Jupiter
Stator, five and a half inches in height, and standing upon
a bronze pedestal. While excavating for the foundation
of the Hall of Science (now the Fi-ee Library), a workman
dug out the beautiful specimen of ancient art — buried, as
may be assumed, nigh two thousand years, and affording
our latest evidence of Roman occupation. When found,
one hand of the model figure contained the thunderbolts of
Jove, in the other was extended a rod. These, together
with the pedestal, were unfortunately soon lost. The
statuette itself passed into the custody of Mr Leigh,
at present Medical Officer of Health for this city, in whose
possession it still remains. Being a Rosicrucian, he dis-
played it to the brethren of that order at their first
chapter in 1852. This bronze Jupiter is a marvel of
perfection, bearing no trace of age or indication of decay.
Here, as Ben Jonson wrote —
" In small proportions we just beauty see.
And in short measures life may perfect be."
The statuette has not been pictured, we believe, save in
these Memorials. In the same ground whence the
Jupiter was recovered were found soon afterwards a small
BRONZE STATUETTE OF JUI'ITER STATOK-
Deansgate and its Byways. 1 29
silver coin of Trajan (now in Mr Leigh's possession), and a
massive gold signet-ring, having on a bloodstone a figure of
Mercury in intaglio. The ring passed into the collection
of the late Mr Charles Bradbury, of the Crescent, Salford.
The next in rotation, Stewart Street, bears the name of
its principal builder, a facetious character, a coachmaker,
long residing at the corner frontage of his own row. He
died in 1817, aged sixty-eight. His son, the Rev.
William Stewart, was minister of Hale Church during the
lengthened period of forty-four years, dying in December
1856, aged seventy-two, as recorded on a flat stone in the
nave of his tide-girt church. One of his silent neighbours
is the far-famed giant of the seventeenth century, the
" Childe of Hale." At this picturesque out-of-the-way
village, where flowers encircle many a cottage porch, and
sombre avenues lead to the ancestral hall of the Ireland-
Blackburnes, the residents can approach the longevity of
Old Parr without the aid of his pills, as evidenced by two
inscriptions which we copied from one family headstone : —
"Richard Halsall, died September the loth, 1759, in the
97th year of his age."
"Esther Hallsall, died 23d March 1833, aged 104 years." :
The latter curiosity is chiseled on each side of the stone.
Perhaps we are loitering too long in Hale Churchyard,
which is far removed from our subject-matter ; but when
we reach a quiet interesting spot that wins our fancy, the
reader will allow us to linger a little, if he please. Few of
our retrospects are more enduring, or afford us higher
satisfaction, than our solitary rambles in these rural places
of rest, where Hislop contemplated" "The Cameronian's
130 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Dream," and where Landseer pictured "The Shepherd's
Grave."
In a large prospect of Manchester and Salford, pubhshed
between the years 1729-34, and dedicated to Lady Ann
Bland, appears a view of " Mr Longworth's house," on the
site of the present Longworth Street, and near to the Hay
Market. In describing the prospect, Mr Harland has
remarked, " This is probably the same building afterwards
Called ' Longworth's Folly.' " But our earliest Directories
show that " LotigWotth's Folly'' (whatever that might be)
was situated at the corner of Princess Street and Redcross
Street. Of the original owner of the house in question we
have no further record, but his son and grandson, each
described in the obituary as "James Longworth, Esq.,
of Longworth Street," lie interred in St John's Church-
yard, Byrom Street. A great-grandson, Mr Thomas
Longworth, was father to the lady who has become so
widely known in connection with the Yelverton trials.
The sight of the weighing-machine so long established
at Aldport serves to remind us of an advertisement which
appeared in the Mermry in January 1774. As that
announcement shows somewhat of the antiquity of the
machine, and also the nature of the business a century
ago, we venture to reproduce it in part: — "Whereas the
weighing-machine at Alport Town has been for some time
unattended, owing to former neglect, mistakes, and mis-
management, this is to acquaint the public that John
Gooden, innkeeper at the Half-Moon, in Alport Town, has
taken the said machine, where due attendance will be
given and the strictest impartiality observed in weighing.
This may be asser£ed in favour of the Alport Town
Deansgate and its Byways. 131
machine, that tallies are kept, which may be referred
to for a year, so that gentlemen, farmers, and others may
be enabled to settle any dispute for that time on a
reference to the books." We are told by John Collier, in
his "Curious Remarks on the History of Manchester,"
that he resided hereabouts in his youth, when the place
was commonly called Hooperton or Upperton. It is,
nevertheless, clear by our advertisement that the name
was soon afterwards changed to the one it still bears —
Alport Town. The more ancient designation, "Alport
Town Fold," was retained in print so recently as 1803.
A brief announcement in the Mercury, dated September
23, 1760, proves that Cockpit Hill was not our only arena
for fighting chanticleers ; and, further, that our annual races
were then held in the autumn of the year — not at Whit-
suntide: — "A main of cocks will be fought during the
races, at the Cockpit, the upper end of Deansgate, between
the gentlemen of Yorkshire and Cheshire."
It scarcely need be stated in print that Windmill Street
derives its name from the windmill which long crowned
the upland, and gave interest to the landscape. Although
we cannot describe its rise and fall in the manner of
Gibbon, we can at least give a few intervening incidents.
In 1766, the Mercury (Mercury was ever the people's news-
bearer) thus enlightened its readers : — " To be sold, at the
house of Mr James Dale, near the Exchange, the wind-
mill at the top of Deansgate, Manchester, with the
utensils thereto belonging, and all in very good repair.
There are four pair of stones for grinding all sorts of dye-
ing wood and potashes, two grindle stones, and two
rasping-mills, a stable for three horses, and a carthouse ;
1 3 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
also a summer-house, and large kitchen-garden well
planted with wall fruit. The whole contains two thousand
five hundred yards, handsomely walled and palisaded
round. The premises are subject to a chief rent of ten
pounds a year, payable to Edward Byrom, Esq." In 1792
the windmill was again offered for sale, with these
additional words — " Situate and being upon the mount at
the top of Deansgate, and near to St Peter's Church." For
the due understanding of these local landmarks, the reader
must bear in mind that, prior to the year 1812, Deansgate
did not extend beyond Peter Street. In 1793 a fire broke
out at the mill, which in a short time destroyed it. Two
years later the windmill, completely renovated, was once
more in the auctioneer's hands. Again, in 1798, the
hammer was brought into requisition; and in 181 1 (for
the last time apparently) the " strong and well-accustomed
windmill, with dwelling-house, and extensive garden with
pond in the centre," were announced for public sale.
As we have once more diverged to the locality of the
long-vanished " Labrey's Fold," we will just add, by the
way, a few words to the notice in our eighth chapter.
The Labreys (wellnigh the only family of the name in this
country) were supposed to be Flemish Huguenots, who
sought and found in free England a refuge from the
religious persecutions of their native land. We have ever
felt a deep interest in all exiles for conscience' sake, and we
trust the day is far distant when the descendants of those
same Huguenots shall flee from England in search of
religious freedom on other shores. But who shall say,
when history so constantly repeats itself, and the wheel of
Fate, with its fabled Ixion, is for ever turning round .■• In
THE KEY (quay). 1746.
Deansgate and its Byways. ix-i
the year 1598 Mr and Mrs Labrey died, within one day of
each other, probably by fever — a frequent and grievous
visitant to Manchester in those early times, when sanitary
regulations were lax, and officers of health were un-
known. After the date just given, no member of the
family is named in the Cathedral registers; the clear
inference being, that, when the parents died, their children
were removed by relatives or friends from Labrey's Fold,
and, like David the Psalmist, they " came no more home
to their father's house."
Quay Street is its own etymologist, being the direct
route to the Key (so spelled in 1746), or wharf, on the
bank of the Irwell. The contracted nature of the conveni-
ence at that date provided for the river traffic of the town
is revealed by our engraved view. The little picture, tell-
ing its simple story plainly enough, is full of suggestiveness
and food for contrast. We see the limited range of Man-
chester commerce on the very eve of the cotton-spinning
discoveries, — only a few years prior to the introduction of
machines by Hayes and Arkwright. It shows the last
slumber preceding the great commercial awakening.
While passing the remaining portion of the dull brick
wall at the corner of Jackson's Row, we are reminded of
an extract from the Cathedral register proving the anti-
quity of the first burial-ground belonging to the Friends
in Manchester : — " 1682, Nov. 4. — Giles Meadowcroft of
Crumpsall, Gent, buried att the Quaker's Folly." The
deed of purchase, dated 1673, describes this plot of ground
as being outside the town of Manchester.
In the will of Jonathan Stockton, of Monton, in the
parish of Eccles, dated 1748, occurs the following paragraph,
134 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
throwing a passing light upon the older history of this por-
tion of Deansgate : — " Whereas I have several covenants
and privileges of inheritance in two fields at the upper end
of the Deansgate, one formerly called by the name of the
Birch Croft, and now called by the name of Queen Street,
and the other by the name of the Doall " (Dole).
The street at which we next arrive bears a singular
name, suggestive of an Oxford college — Brazennose. We
know not the date of this strange designation, nor whence
derived, but here resided, about the year 1793, two re-
markable characters — Robert Owen, the philanthropist, and
Robert Fulton, who launched, in 1807, the first steam-
boat upon the river Hudson. These notables dwelt in
the same boarding-house, and during their sojourn in Man-
chester maintained a friendly, accommodating intercourse*
At the earlier date in question, Mr Owen, then a very
young man, was manager of Mr Peter Drinkwater's " Bank
Top Mill." Nearly half a century later (August 5, 1839),
we heard Mr Owen deliver an oration after laying the
foundation-stone of the Hall of Science (now the Free
Library), Camp Field.
Cumberland Street calls forth another antiquated bill
of sale, pointing out a forgotten poorhouse: — "June I2th,
1792. — To be sold, by order of the churchwardens and
overseers of the poor of Manchester, the fee-simple and
inheritance of and in all that large and substantial pile of
building, with the workshops and appurtenances thereunto
belonging, situated, standing, and being in Cumberland
Street, in Manchester aforesaid, now used as the Man-
' Threading my Way," by Robert Dale Owen.
Deansgate and its Byways. 135
Chester poorhouse ; the site or ground-plot contains up-
wards of one thousand eight hundred and twenty-seven
superficial square yards." In the previous June was laid
the first stone of a new and larger workhouse near Strange-
ways, which still serves its purpose when supplemented
by the Crumpsall Farm and the Swinton School, — rather
important supplements, it must be admitted. An earlier
home for the indigent was abandoned, and thus advertised
in April 1 764 : — " To be let, for any term not exceeding
twenty-one years, all that large piece of building com-
monly called the Workhouse, situate at the top of Shude-
hill." .
It more immediately adjoins Mayes Street, — the latter
taking its name from Edward Mayes, who, in 162 1, left a
charitable bequest, which was expended in land and houses
at this spot, for the lasting benefit of the poor. In 1680
almshouses were erected on a portion of this estate ; they
contained accommodation for twenty-four families. The
burial of one of the inmates is thus registered : — " 1704,
July 24. — Samuel, son of Thomas Blackcow, of Milgate
almshouse." For Manchester's first efiTort in this charitable
direction, we must travel backward to the Protectorate of
Oliver Cromwell, when a portion of the College Barn
(situated at Hunt's Bank, between the prison and the Col-
lege Gate House) was purchased by the churchwarden
and overseer for the time being, in order that it might be
" made in readiness to set the poor people on work to pre-
vent their begging."
In Spinning Field was born " Tommy Lye," the popular
jockey, whom we have often seen upon the famous
race-course at Kersal Moor, and have been amused
1 36 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
at his manoeuvres as he successfully strove to out-general
his juniors in silken jackets. At Doncaster and at Epsom
his exciting triumphs were likewise manifold. -He rode
the winners of two St Legers and three Oaks ; his prime
favourite being the Queen of Trumps—" the turf's splendid
monarch, the Queen ! " — on which mare he won the
double event. "To the last," says an obituary notice
in the Manchester Guardian, "he was a quaint, sagacious
little fellow." During nearly half a century his home
had been fixed at Middleham, Yorkshire, where he died,
after a tedious illness, 27th May 1866, aged seventy-
one. His remains were interred in the churchyard of
East Witton. About two months previously he had
lost his son, who was a trainer. After Lye's retirement
from the saddle, at Manchester races 1853, "^^ might
be seen," says a writer in the Sporting Life, "at York
or Doncaster, with white hair, and looking quite the
small divine in black and a white neckcloth ; and for
a two-handed crack on old times few men were better.''
This brief record of the popular jockey may be supple-
mented by a few facts touching his favourite course.
The history of Kersal Moor and its amusements is cor-
rectly given, so far as local authorities could guide the
writer, in a small book, " Our Turf, Stage, and Ring."
More recently our attention has been drawn to a file of the
London Gazette, in which newspaper our turf announce-
ments were usually printed before Manchester possessed
any journal of its own. The first mention in the Gazette
is dated 2d May 1687 — being the eve of the great
Revolution, when monarchs were felled and upraised in
England like the wooden kings in a skittle-alley. This
Deansgate and its Byways. 137
date, though not exactly the origin of horse-racing in
Manchester, may be accepted as the nearest approach
thereto at which we can arrive in print — a fact of some
interest to the lovers of Lancashire sports and pastimes ;
more especially to those who, resembling ourselves, retain
a regretful remembrance of the wild free moorland.
When we compare its liberties with the enclosed mercan-
tile course we now possess, where money — not recreation
— is the primary object, and where " Pay here " confronts
the visitor at every turn, we feel that in the boasted march
of improvement there is sometimes a retrograde motion.
To any one accustomed to the freedom of Kersal Moor,
this modern system of constraint and toll is tantamount
to wearing a strait jacket and paying a keeper, for press-
ing it on. We have an idea that race-courses should be
public property, held for general recreation. The old
moor was at liberty for healthful exercises all the year
round — thanks to Miss Atherton, whose memory " smells
sweet, and blossoms in the dust." It appears by the
Gazette that Liverpool races preceded our own at Kersal ;
although at Barlow Moor, on the southern border of
Manchester, racing was common so far back as 1647.
We give an extract by way of proof : — " 1671, Feb. 15th. —
These are to give notice that the Right Hon, Charles
Earl of Derby, with many other gentlemen of quality
within the two counties of Lancaster and Chester, together
with the Mayor, Aldermen, and burgesses of Liverpool,
have set forth near the said town a five-mile course for a
horse race, which is intended to be run on the l8th day
of May next, and so for ever yearly at the same time."
Passing onward to 1688, wefind the sports at "Carsall
138 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Moore" removed from Whitsuntide to September, two
plates, as in the previous year, yielding cheap amusement
during two days. After 1709 our sporting announcements
disappear from the official pages of the Gazette. They
were transferred ten years later, we may assume, to
the columns of our earliest newspaper, the Manchester
Weekly Journal. The departed glories of Kersal Moor
have been perpetuated in song by various enthusiastic
minstrels. With one of these eulogistic strains it was our
desire to give poetic interest to this prose narrative. But
the writer's course, resembling the celebrated course of
true love, does not always run smooth. Michael Wilson's
ditty is too familiar to suit our purpose. The character-
istic song written by Ryley, the itinerant, for the theatre
in Spring Gardens, and chanted by him upon that
stage in 1798, has persistently eluded our research.
Another ballad (one of the best of its class, although
anonymous), would be equally welcome, if obtainable.
It is called "Victorious Stump," and enumerates the
triumphs, in 1790, of a noted Lancashire pedestrian, whose
real name was Wild. We read this ballad once, several
years ago, in a jealously-guarded tome, where the privilege
of copying was forbidden. In our search for these rhymed
rarities, we wonder how many roods of song-sheets, pinned
on walls or tied to railings, at Knot Mill Fair and other
kindred places, have been patiently conned, until the
wandering vendors have inquired : — " Any particular
song, sir ? " " Yes, please ; have you got ' Victorious
Stump ' ? " " Victorious what ? " A repetition of the
name producing merely a hopeless shake of the head, it
was easy to see that the "Merry legs" once so famous
Deansgafe and its Byways. 139
were now utterly forgotten. "Who Stump was, or how
he fared, nobody knew, nobody cared."
In passing Wood Street (unsavoury now), we need not
quite ignore the residence of James Ogden, schoolmaster
and author, nor overlook the printing-office of his son
William, the political reformer. As we have already
written of the twain more at length, and from original
sources, in another work, it will be sufficient to add here,
that James Ogden contributed freely to Dr Aikin's
History of Manchester and its surroundings, collecting
materials for that book resj^ecting several of the manu-
facturing towns of Lancashire.
Throughout the present chapter we have made free use
of bygone advertisements, laying under frequent tribute
their genuine yet neglected treasures. In justification —
if such be needed — we may repeat an averment of the
Rev. George Crabbe, to wit, that while each division of a
newspaper is a reflex of life, the advertisements are
" life itself."
CHAPTER XI.
PICCADILLY REVISITED.
" The older Lancashire ballads have, as a rule, very little of literary
excellence about them ; nevertheless they are worthy of preservation, and
sometimes throw a curious light upon the social history of the past. ... In
this, as in other matters, Lancashire is chiefly noticeable for what has been
done within the present century. Beyond it she does not possess many lyrics
of much note or beauty."
" Folk Song," by W. E. A. Axon.
T T will be patent to our readers that, in closing the last
-*- chapter, we "played a lament" for two stray ballads
wellnigh as plaintively as Patrick lamented for his poor
dog Tray. As no person can announce his wants in
a popular newspaper without being heard, few will be
surprised to find that one of the missing melodies has
already, Micawber-like, "turned up." So our flag of
distress is now half furled. This simple incident may
serve to point a moral to the vainglorious, as thus : — If
we assume airs of superiority, thus declaring our successful
rivalry, the world will use all its arts to lower our inflated
standard ; yet the moment Fate lays us in the dust (as Fate
sometimes will), and we call for help, as the waggoner
called to Hercules, that same world will stoop to raise and
befriend us. In truth, the world is often more generous
than just ; perhaps it feels its own goodness in acts of
public benevolence. This may be one reason why charity
Piccadilly Revisited. 141
is extolled above all other virtues. To our thinking,
justice is the nobler attribute; and we would say to our
sons (if we had them), Be just, both to yourselves and to
others. This day let each man adopt the golden rule, the
eleventh commandment, and to-morrow he shall hail the
millennium.
Without waiting for the advent of that desirable era,
we will now revisit Piccadilly, after an absence of several
years' duration. Glancing at Chatham Street, allow us to
refer to the grand circus it once contained. As a tangible
proof of its existence we may present the contents of a
handbill issued from that establishment when in its hey-
day: — "At the Circus, November 2nd, 1796. A foot race
by Mr Wild (Stump) and another noted runner for ten
guineas, twelve times round, making eight hundred yards.
Stump is the same who ran on Kersal Moor." To this
old circus bill the long-sought ballad will lend a new
charm : —
VICTORIOUS STUMP.
(Copied, by permission, from the Greaves Collection. )
" You sportsmen all in England fair.
Come listen awhile to me ;
A song I am just going to sing.
Of Stump of high degree :
For he most footmen will subdue,
And to his countrymen stand true.
" It was in April, the fifteenth day.
To Kersal Moor Stump came ;
Saying, here comes Trovetor, that noble horse,
That long has been in fame :
I mean these footmen to subdue,
And to my countrymen stand true.
142 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
" It was on Monday, mark the day,
These heroes came to start ;
That noble Chapman against Stump,
But Stump did play his part.
And noble Chapman did subdue,
And to his countrymen stood true.
" They took the gallant Stump to bed
When Chapman he had beat ;
For in two hours' time, he had
To run another heat :
He was not fit, I must speak true,
But to his countrymen stood true.
" The second heat the men did start,
As I must teU you plain ;
But Seddon seven yards got the start,
And soon fourteen did gain ;
But Stump o'ertook him at Yarn Croft Broo,
And likewise Seddon did subdue.
" Then side by side these footmen went,
Which made them shout amain ;
Saying, Bonny Stump wiU now be beat
O how they were mista'en !
But Stump he was both loyal and true,
First up to th' chair this hero flew.
" Some people said it was not fair.
And I will say the same,
To run twice in so short a space ;
Stump was himself to blame.
Huzza ! for Stump is loyal and true.
And made these Swinton gamesters rue.
" To Epsom, in Surrey, bold Stump went,
To run against one Pye,
The noted footman of that part ;
They thought that he could fly :
But Stump this Pye-man did subdue.
And to his countrymen stood true.
Piccadilly Revisited. 143
" Likewise to Gisburn once he went,
A sheep-catcher to run ;
But of that Yorkshire footman then
He nothing made but fun ;
For valiant Stump, thinking no harm,
Put on his clothes to keep him warm.
" So now to conclude, and make an end ;
For Stump we'll loud huzza !
Victorious he has always proved,
And always bore the sway ;
His honour let it always ring :
God bless bold Stump and George our King ! "
1790.
In May 1840 (half a century beyond the date appended
to the above ballad), a Manchester newspaper contained
the following obituary notice: — "Death of a Veteran
Pedestrian. — Died, on the loth inst., near Rochdale, at
the advanced age of eighty years, the celebrated Lanca-
shire runner. Stump." This statement proving to be
premature, John Wild was not long in assuring the world
that there was " life in the old dog yet," although he was
unable to run so fast or so far as formerly. At what
date his decease actually occurred, where he was buried,
or the character of the inscription chiseled on his grave-
stone, we are not in a position to record.
Since writing the foregone remarks, an intelligent cor-
respondent has increased our store of information with a
few personal recollections. "Wild" he states, "was a
native of Milnrow, in which village there is on a public-
house sign a painting of ' Stump and Pie Lad.' Wild was
one of those men who are stronger in the legs than in the
headj for whilst he won large sums for those who laid
wagers on his racing powers, he entirely neglected him-
144 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
self. I well remember his tall, gaunt, aged form walking
in short quick steps about the village of Hollingworth,
where my father was master of the Endowed School.
Had his 'backers,' in his last days, remembered the almost
forgotten Stump, it would have been more to their credit."
From another correspondent we learn that John Wild
breathed his last at the residence of his daughter Sarah
at Laneside, near Milnrow.
In our premier chapter on Piccadilly allusion was made
to a curious library that won our attention while passing
its portal. It has since been removed by its owner to
another quarter of the city. This is one of the most
unique of private libraries — a miscellaneous and extensive
collection of anything scarce or peculiar, especially in
local literature ; and with no lack of the ample ivory
margins which Coleridge loved to fill, and which bibli-
ophilists in general know how to appreciate. When we
watch the career of any quiet, persevering bookworm, who
dedicates his time and fortune, be they little or much, to
the rescue and preservation of neglected treasures — when
we trace such a career to its close, and perceive that,
usually, at the decease of the worthy collector, his
accumulations are re-scattered to the winds, is it not pain-
fully evident that the lettered child, though up-grown and
mentally endowed, has merely been playing at baby-
house .' Much better to keep in view the example of
Chetham, or Ashmole, or Bodley, and in this way transmit
his name to future generations of silent readers, fruitful
thinkers, than leave the pious labours of his life to be
undone by an auctioneer. Rumour has whispered, in her
fitful and dubious manner, that some such favourable
Piccadilly Revisited. 145
destiny awaits the library near Piccadilly; but as Rumour
is proverbially gifted with a hundred tongues, each one a
fabulist, it were unsafe to confide in her report. An
article, written by the now venerable owner of this library,
and published in the pages of Blackwood's Magazine half
a century ago, proves how well he can appreciate his
literary stores, while holding fit communion with the
ment^ heroes who surround him. The article in ques-
tion — "On the Chetham Library" — is, with the author's
permission, inserted entire in our Appendix.
The readers of the aforesaid article will not be sur-
prised to learn that its author has found a niche in the
pages of "Men of the Time." As the brief biographies
there inserted are usually submitted to the persons
immediately concerned, we may safely assume their cor-
rectness.
"Crossley, James, F.S.A., son of a merchant at Halifax,
Yorkshire, born in 1800, was educated for the law, and
practised as a solicitor at Manchester till i860, when he
retired from the profession. He was a frequent con-
tributor to the earlier volumes of Blackwood's Magazine,
one of the writers in the first Retrospective Review, and
occasionally assisted J. G. Lockhart in biographical articles
in the Quarterly Review. The peculiar department to
which he has devoted himself is criticism and antiquarian
and literary research. Mr Crossley has been a member
of the Philobiblon Society since its commencement. He
was appointed president of the Chetham Society in 1848,
which office he still holds ; and he is also president of the
more recently formed Spenser Society. He is the editor
of ' Pott's Discovery of Witches,' ' The Diary and Cor-
K
146 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
respondence of Dr John Worthington,' two volumes, and
'Heywood's Observations in Verse/ in the Chetham
series. His assistance will be found to be acknowledged
in very many of the works of literary research which
have appeared during the last forty years. He is well
known as an ardent book-collector, and has accumu-
lated a curious and extensive library. His present resi-
dence is Cavendish Place, Manchester."
Certain characteristics lying upon the surface of our
present street may be briefly chronicled. " Piccadilly
flags," broad and commanding, are locally proverbial.
Here, owing to the extended area, the immured citizen
may hail his freshest breeze or his brightest sunbeam,
or take his longest gaze at the mysterious comet, when
that "stranger of heaven" is careering aloft, with the
beautiful evening star glittering through its far-spreading
tail. We are told that trees refuse to flourish, flowers to
expand their petals, hereabouts. If this be true, what
shall be said of Angel Meadow and similar verdant
retreats ? It was in this convenient area that our home
defenders frequently chose to parade; and the curious
in military manoeuvres — in martial exercises — ^took an
interest in watching those volunteers present their arms
to their officers, whilst presenting their attractive uniforms
to admiring sweethearts. The interest was of a sadder
kind when, a comrade having grounded his arms in death,
the survivors mustered here, with sable ensigns, to honour
him with a soldier!s funeral, and awaken the gazer's sym-
pathy with the dreary music of the "Dead March in
Saul." More than once our political candidates have
selected this scene, at the close of the poll, to express
Piccadilly Revisited. 147
their gratitude for parliamentary honours conferred or
for minority votes recorded in vain. One evening, we
remember, was especially exciting. Three parties were
haranguing at the same moment — one at the western
end upon a balcony ; another at a window at the nor-
thern side; the third group being located upon and
around the pedestal of a central monument. We sighed
for the ability to divide ourselves into the requisite trio>
so that we might listen to them all fully and fairly. This
being an impossible feat, we proceeded to hear them par-
tially and consecutively, yielding the natural preference
to the member whose success had been the most striking.
It is not given to every winner to look victorious. But
this gentleman, rosy, substantial, and joyous in every
feature, was triumph personified. His observations were
few and telling. " He came, saw, and overcame," formed
the gist of his speech. A veritable Caesar I After prais-
ing our independence and determination, he assured us
that his victory was equally our own : so we went on our
way rejoicing. Crossing the street, we next joined the
crowd surrounding two candidates— a winner and a loser.
Throughout the canvass they had declared their intention
of being partners for life ; but at the poll the voters had
cruelly forbidden the banns. During our stay the winner
was addressing the citizens, the difficulties of his task being
apparent. Each word of congratulation spoken for himself
required two of condolence for the less fortunate friend at
his side. Orestes, having lost his Pylades, refused to be
wholly comforted. As we turned from the novel and per-
plexing scene, we caught ourselves humming the sugges-
[48 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
tive fanciful ditty, "Said a smile to a tear." Arriving
at length at the monument, or final rostrum, we were at
the foot of the election poll,— the sober, subdued aspect
of affairs contrasting strangely with the balcony scene,
where all seemed couleur de rose. The audience, being
smaller, was here more select and orderly; the cheers,
though feebler, were more discriminating. In short, the
assembly was full of the wisdom which recent adversity
is known to bestow. When the candidate rose to thank
us— to thank us for nothing — he smiled benignantly, while
asserting that in all contests of this nature there must of
necessity be losers — a fact we already felt as a truism.
He had calmly prepared himself for defeat, being shrewder
in this respect than the Great Napoleon, who thought only
of conquest ; and he believed, with Jacob Faithful, that
another opportunity would bring better fortune. His
friends had merely to bide their turn, taking heart from
a homely proverb — "The third time will pay for all."
Personally the apparent loss was a real gain. He could
now enjoy the comforts of home, the profits of business,
instead of sacrificing both to parliamentary duties. Other
consolatory phrases following in well-timed succession, the
listening losers began to experience "the joy of sorrow,"
and to think that, after all, they had not so much the
worst of the bargain. With the hush of the hopeful
speaker's voice our parting glance was taken, and we
felt duly grateful for a useful lesson of life ; nor have we
since forgotten the interesting Shakespearian tableau — ■
" Patience on a monument smiling at Grief." Possibly
our interest in the monumental scene was enhanced by
Piccadilly Revisited. 149
a remembrance of the time when the working-men's can-
didate and his auditor were both young, and little antici-
pating this contest for parliamentary honours, nor fore-
seeing the high civic dignities which have since been
conferred upon him by his fellow-citizens.
CHAPTER XII.
GORE STREET^HENRY LIVERSEEGE.
" To arrive, untutored and unaided, at that purity of style, that truth to
nature, that display of lively and harmless humour, which abound in his
pictures, was a great deal ; but it was greater to satisfy his own rigorous self-
criticism,- and to die with the consciousness of having secured to himself a
memory of enduring fame."
George Condy.
WHO could pass the end of Gore Street, Piccadilly,
without casting a wistful glance at the house
where Henry Liverseege lived during his later years,
and ultimately died,* leaving his latest creation, " Falstaff
and Bardolph," unfinished upon the easel.? Not we, by
our troth! At the sale of the late John Clowes Grundy's
art collection, this last work of Liverseege was knocked
down at forty-six pounds four shillings. When we see
a favourite picture thus brought to new life by the ring
of the auctioneer's hammer, and remember that the gifted
producer has long ago passed from amongst us, we are
forcibly impressed by a thought which has impressed men
before to-day — that the painter is even less of a reality
than the shadows emanating from his pencil.
* To render this fact clear, we append a verbatim copy of his burial record,
as preserved in the register at St Luke's : — " Henry Liverseege, single man ;
abode. Gore Street, Piccadilly; buried, igth January 1832 ; age, 29 years."
Gore Street — Henry Liverseege, 151
It will be fresh in the remembrance of many of our
readers, that, ten years ago, attention was called by a cor-
respondent in the columns of the Manchester Guardian to
the neglected, precarious state of the young painter's grave.
With a hearty, commendable esprit-de-corps, immediate
action was taken in the matter by the chief editor of the
journal named, who summoned a few kindred spirits, and
the requisite funds were subscribed towards a suitable
memorial tablet, since executed by Mr Marshall Wood.
The original letter is here revived, together with the
editorial reply.
" The Grave of Liverseege the Painter.
" To the Editor : — Sir, — To-day, being at leisure, I have
been watching the demolition of St Luke's Church, Chorlton-upon-
Medlock, and saw workmen sorting the fallen debris upon the
grave of poor Liverseege, who was buried close to the wall of the
church. It is needless, sir, to speak of the merits of Liverseege ;
his name and works are public property. As, on my return home,
I passed the monuments in front of the Infirmary, I felt that,
when we talk of ' the fortune of war,' we may likewise talk of the
fortune of peace. The social enigma which perpetuates one son of
genius in bronze or in marble, while it leaves another to be degraded
in an obscure grave, is more difficult of solution than all the riddles
of my Lord Dundreary. However, sir, knowing the value of your
space, I wUl briefly repeat that the resting-place of Henry Liverseege
requires immediate attention, or all trace of it may soon be lost."
The urgency of the case being acknowledged, the follow-
ing notice appeared in the newspaper within a few days : —
"The Grave of Liverseege. — Our attention having been
called to the grave of Henry Liverseege by our correspondent, we made
some inquiries on the subject yesterday. St Luke's Church, Bedford
Street, of which the Rev. W. A. Darby is rector, is about to be rebuilt.
The old church, which was of brick, is being pulled down, and the
152 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
necessary consequence is that some of the debris falls upon the stones
in the adjoining graveyard. The stone over the unfortunate artist's
remains is close to the side of the church, and a portion of the spout
which drained the roof passes through it. The inscription is mainly
to the memory of a family named Mitchell, the name of Liverseege
being the last upon the stone. Although some rubbish may have
rested upon this, as well as other gravestones, the greatest care is
being taken to preserve them from injury. It is intended to take
up the stones — probably the wiser course for their preservation —
during the rebuilding — to lower the surface of the ground slightly,
and to replace the stones. We cannot, however, think it creditable
to Manchester that the last resting-place of one of whom an eminent
critic has said that, had he lived, he might have been an EngUsh
Wilkie, should remain unhonoured and almost unknown. Doubtless,
many visitors to the Art Treasures Exhibition remember Liverseege's
picture of a political cobbler poring over Cobbett's Register. The
man who painted that, and who spent his brief life of twenty-nine
years in this city, deserves some record at our hands. At least an
upright stone should mark his grave, and a tablet in the church, when
it is rebuilt, should perpetuate his artistic merit. The editor of the
Guardian will be glad to receive the names of any gentlemen who
approve of this suggestion."
After the lapse of thirty years of silent neglect, it is
gratifying to the worshipper or occasional loiterer in the
chaste new church dedicated to St Luke, Chorlton-upon-
Medlock, to rest his eyes on the medallion portrait of
Liverseege, and, comparing the present with the past, read
the appropriate inscription beneath : —
" Henry Liverseege, painter, born at Man-
chester, September 4, 1803, where he died,
January 13, 1832, is buried in this church.
He cultivated his innate love of painting in
defiance of adverse circumstances and a
weakly frame. Life was to him a school of
earnest study of his art in the subjects of
romance and humour, to which his genius
THE LIVERSEEGE MEMORIAL,
Gore Street — Henry Liverseege. 153
inclined. Death overtook him as he passed
from scholar into master. Some of his towns-
men, who, in the pictures he has left, recognise
his genius, and lament the death that left such
promise unfulfilled, have raised this stone to his
memory. June 1865."
Still the tablet in question, being formed of light
material, and placed against a light wall, seems to ask for
a dark relieving border to give it full effect. It represents
the Muse of Painting mourning the loss of her son, and
laying a wreath upon his tomb.
The grave of Liverseege, originally in the yard, was
enclosed, with several others, by the new church (of larger
dimensions than the old), and is now beneath the Rector's
pew ; where many a furtive glance is still cast by Henry's
admiring and aspiring brethren of the easel, thus forming
an instinctive guardianship.
It is known that Liverseege, at the outset of his brief
career, painted at least two inn-signs, the Ostrich, displayed
near New Islington, and a fierce, swarthy, richly-coloured,
half-length figure, named the Saracen's Head, — long an
object of interest to the wayfarer on Rochdale Road. The
builder of the inn, desirous of an attractive sign for his new
house, gave the commission to his young friend Liverseege,
who more than satisfied the expectations formed. After
some years of outdoor service, the Saracen's Head was
taken in to- preserve it from the corroding effects of the
weather, and was then hung as a treasure in the landlord's
private room, — precisely as the Royal Oak, painted by
David Cox, is preserved at Bettws. Manchester possessed
another superior inn-sign — the Haunch of Venison, Dale
154 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Street — from the easel of Paul Wilkinson, a wayward
genius, not exactly of the Liverseege order, but rather a
diamond in the rough, who never submitted to the
lapidary's refining art.
The persevering industry of Liverseege, which was
remarkable, will be best revealed by a contemplation of
his numerous works — numerous when his youth and
delicate health are considered, and of rare excellence
withal. Of course these cannot be consulted by our
readers in the original paintings, rich and varied in colour,
but there is an excellent substitute in the folio volume of
engravings pubhshed in London by Hodgson, Boys, &
Graves, and in Manchester by Grundy & Goadsby. As
this volume appeared within three years of the painter's
decease, the owners of his pictures at that date would be,
in the majority of instances, the early admirers and
encouragers of his genius. We have pleasure^ in repro-
ducing their names.
List of Engravings from the Works of
Henry Liverseege.
Name of Subject. Proprietor of Picture.
The Weekly Register John Bentley, Esq.
The Inquiry Benjamin Hick, Esq.
Captain Macheath ... ... Benjamin Hick, Esq.
The Gravediggers Joseph Marsland, Esq.
Agnes A. G. Vickers, Esq.
Hamlet and Ghost John S. Heron, Esq.
Black Dwarf Benjamin Hick, Esq.
Touch of the Spasms John S. Heron, Esq.
Friar Tuck John S.. Heron, Esq.
The Recruit Lawrence Fort, Esq.
Gore Street — Henry Liverseege.
155
Name of Subject.
Little Red Riding-Hood
Good Resolution
The Visionary
Sir Piercie Shafton . . .
The Grandfather
The Betrothed
Othello and Desdemona
Falstaff and Bardolph
Popping the Question . . .
Lucy Ashton
Parental Affection
The Orphan
The Falconer
Friar Tuck Asleep
Don Quixote in his Study
The Cavalier
Edie Ochiltree
The Benediction
My Lady's Page
Christopher Sly and \
THE Hostess f
Touchstone and Audrey
Meg Merrilees and|
Hazlewood )
HUDIBRAS and RaLPHO . . .
Ann Page
The Ghost Story
Portrait of Liverseege
Liverseege's Chair
Proprietor of Picture.
G. Gilbertson, Esq.
Joseph Marsland, Esq.
Joseph Marsland, Esq.
Duke of Devonshire.
Thomas Ollivant, Esq.
Benjamin Dobson, Esq.
Joseph Marsland, Esq.
George Talbot Knowles, Esq.
Charles Meigh, Esq.
Bolton Institution.
Benjamin Hick, Esq.
John Bentley, Esq.
Joseph Marsland, Esq.
Benjamin Godfrey Windus, Esq.
C. K. Mainwaring, Esq.
John Greaves, Esq.
J. M. Ince, Esq,
Joseph Marsland, Esq.
M. P. Calvert, Esq.
William Wells, Esq.
Joseph Marsland, Esq.
George Peel, Esq.
Henry Brooke, Esq.
George Stephens, Esq.
Robert Vernon, Esq.
Thomas Agnew, Esq.
Benjamin Godfrey Windus, Esq.
Even this lengthy list does not embrace all his pro-
ductions. At the Exhibition of the works of local artists
at Peel Park, in 1857, we had the pleasure of viewing many
of Liverseege's paintings. The titles of some of these, not
included in the above list, may be transcribed from the
catalogue.
156 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Name of Subject. Proprietor of Picture.
The Baron's Dwarf ( Vide " Lay| ^ Whitehead, Esq.
of the Last Minstrel") )
Dead Game C. Bradbury, Esq.
* * * C. Bradbury, Esq.
" All — all, save one — and she bends by his side.
Whose arms were first to clasp her with a love
Fond as a bridegroom's for his blushing bride.
Strong as a parent's heait alone may prove !
And she is there beside him, like a dove,
'Tending his drooping form with pitying care ;
And oft her tearful eyes she lifts above,
And offers to her God a quiet prayer.
With looks like angel's — mild and beautifully fair."
C. Swain's " Beauties of the Mind."
Name of Subject. Proprietor of Picture.
A Study OF A Boy J. Bostock, Esq.
Portrait OF Mrs Calvert ... M. P. Calvert, Esq.
The Bird-Trap* J. C. Grundy, Esq.
Captain Dalgetty ( Vide " Legend ] ^ ^ ^ ^
of Montrose") } J. R. Taylor, Esq.
Storm Scene from " The Antiquary " A. Hall, Esq.
Effie Deans ( Vide " Heart of Mid- ) ^ „ „
Lothian") I J. R. Taylor, Esq.
HaLBERT GLENDINNING(F/^^"The ) T T) rr. -n-
Abbot") } J. R. Taylor, Esq.
Original Sketch J. Marsland, Esq.
A Sketch John Barratt, Esq.
During the Exhibition of 1 861, in the same building at
Lark Hill, we noticed three additional productions, thus
catalogued : —
A charming little picture, rarely mentioned.
Gore Street — Henry Liver seege. 157
Name of Subject. Proprietor of Picture.
" Scene from Kenilworth :'"»
Amy Robsart assaulted by Lam- > ... J. Marsland, Esq.
bourne and Staples )
Evening Devotion (a sepia "\
drawing, with the artist's v ... J. Satterfield, Esq.
autograph) j
Portrait of Liverseege (chalk ") ^ ^.^ _,
1 . 1. u T. ji \ r •••J- Heugh, Esq.
sketch, by Bradley) J •' ' ^
Several others are mentioned by Mr Tom Taylor and
Mr George Richardson (a pupil of Liverseege's), one being
" Adam Woodcock," purchased by the Earl of Wilton ;
another, " A Robber on the Look-out." Of " Little Red
Riding-Hood " we have received a later and further
account. In the folio volume the print is dedicated to
Mr Gilbertson, the possessor of the original picture. Mr
George Gilbertson, late of Stocks Street, Cheetham, an
early admirer of Liverseege, bought this painting from the
artist ; and it remained a favourite ornament of the ovirner's
dwelling until his demise, about ten years ago, when his
effects, inclusive of the picture, were distributed by auction.
Mr James Shaw, in his visits to Mr Gilbertson in the
capacity of family physician, saw the painting in ques-
tion so frequently that he recollects every feature; more
especially the centre attraction, where the damsel, fascin-
ated by the "soft sawder " of Master Wolf, is unconsciously
and unceasingly dropping from her pinafore the wild
flowers she never stoops to recover. As a matter of course,
the reader will be familiar with this incident. We all
know the story of Little Red Riding-Hood, having learned
it from the loving lips of mother in the nursery. All, did
we write .■• Yes, all save the poor little Bohemians, who.
158 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
lacking both nurse and nursery, have no such pure remem-
berings. But those waifs and strays of (or rather from)
society must not lure us away — far away — from the
winsome favourite, Red Riding-Hood, as pictured by
Henry Liverseege.
Once upon a time (before the formation of dates or
numerals, and ere the restrictions of Fact were allowed to
fetter the wild movements of Fancy), a pretty little
country girl lived — as country girls usually do live — in a
village. Her mother, we are assured, loved her much ;
whilst her grandmother's affection was so abounding, that
she bestowed upon her darling a rose-coloured hood, and
the pet became known, within a circle of many green
miles, by the designation she still retains — to the annihi-
lation of the formal names conferred at the baptismal font.
The tiny maiden, dutiful as pretty, went forth one sunny
day, at her mother's request, and in the hue of the Lan-
castrian rose, with some cakes and butter for grandame,
who was ailing, and who dwelt alone on the skirt of an
adjoining forest, the porch of her straw-roofed cottage
being encircled with flowers. While crossing the wood,
our heroine encountered a wolf, — a savage of taste, as the
sequel proved, — for upon seeing how sweet and tender she
was, he yearned to devour her ; but hearing woodcutters
at work, he postponed his meal to a more convenient hour
for dining. The wolf then entered freely into conversation
with the child, and, judging by the reporter's verbatim
notes, the brute was of the Talleyrand breed , using language
for the purpose of concealing, not revealing, his sinister
intentions. It is almost needless to write that the guileless
girl failed to hold her own against the wiles of her astute
Gore Street — Henry Liver seege. 159
companion — Seeming, as usual, proving more than a
match for the True. The issue was a double sacrifice, —
another Massacre of the Innocents ; but as we possess no
talent for tragedy, the great sensation scene will not be
enacted before the curtain. Better to cover the gore with
forest leaves, as Redbreast covered the babies, and hasten
to the retribution. Wolf being despatched on the scene of
his enormities by the avenging hand of Red Riding-Hood's
father, a ban was forthwith laid iipon the treacherous race
by the Court of Fairies in full council assembled. The
wolfish tongue, condemned to wordless silence, is never to
betray more; nor will one of the species be permitted to
prowl again, in his natural garb, upon English soil. This
latter proviso, as all readers can verify, has been carried
out to the letter, — ^the only wolves to be found in Albion at
the present date being those disguised in sheep's clothing.
Surely there is a spark of true Promethean fire in the
undying nursery charmers, — the pictured legends that are
lisped in babyhood and venerated in age.
The fate of Liverseege bore some resemblance to the
fate of Tasso. The messenger who brought the intelli-
gence to the Latin poet that the laurel crown had been
decreed to him, found him dying. Liverseege saw in pro-
spective the laurel which he could not live to wear. The
elder genius had won his unworn crown ; the younger was
still striving, and winning his meed. So when we mark
the wreath upon Henry's tablet, we feel constrained to
acknowledge the peculiar fitness of the symbol.
Appreciative Mancestrians find unfailing interest in the
manifold illustrations of humour and romance emanating
from the pencil of their "English Wilkie." In him, a
i6o Memorials of Manchester Streets.
merry heart, a soaring mind, were chained unfairly to the
earth by circumstances beyond his control ; and if, like
Francis Quarles, we were selecting emblems for special
application, the emblem for Liverseege might be a skylark
with a wounded wing.
Perhaps we cannot better part from Henry Liverseege
than in the tributary lines of his gifted townswoman, the
late Maria Jane Jewsbury : —
DIRGE FOR A DEAD PAINTER.
" Death, grim Death, when shall we see
This broad earth no more thy city 1
Grave, deep Grave, when shall it be
Thou wilt close thy lips in pity 1
When shall Love's subduing prayer,
When shall Genius, yet more rare,
Mind and Worth, in blended beauty,
Woo ye from your cold stern duty ?
\When shall Sweetness win back one ?
Never, never ! — he is gone !
' i^•'r*•■■/,c5?V?^
• Yet, swift hunter, couldst not give
Summons ere the hart was stricken \
Grave, that on Death's prey dost live,
Could thy hungry silence quicken
Into no foreboding knell
Ere the unconscious victim fell ?
Could ye not give leave to plight
Farewell, ere his day grew night ?
Might not Sorrow's need have one .''
Ye were ruthless ! — he is gone !
" Yesterday, scarce yesterday,
Bright dreams through his brain were flowing,
And his hand, with cunning play,
To the world those dreams was showing.
Gore Street — Henry Liver seege. i6i
Yesterday, and in his eye
Fame had writ her prophecy ;
Sealed it on his flexile lips.
Now in dark and mute eclipse.
Could not Genius save her son ?
Wherefore question ? — he is gone !
" Speak not of his fragile form,
And his often painful pillow ;
What may longer bide the storm
, Than the dehcate drooping willow ?
( He was loved, and Love can do
1 Feats physicians never knew,
T WiSi^its^undlessness of^re^^
\ M ighty h o pe, and fervent prayer._
Hush, oh hush ! — Love's power is none —
It is weeping ! — he is gone !
" Dust to dust, now dust to dust,
And we leave his dwelling lowly ;
Not another sigh we must,
If it be not meek and holy.
Whose the arm that smote him down ?
Whose the hand took off his crown ?
God alone, omnipotent,
f; CaUing back what He had lent.
\:Come then, friends, and be each one
Better Christian now he's gone."
Thus far concerning Henry Liverseege, the master-spirit
of our artistic circle. Were these Memorials not already
crowded with select illustrations, presenting scenes of in-
terest or relics of antiquity, we might add to this chapter
an outline map of Manchester and its environs, just to
indicate the various churchyards and cemeteries where
he and other local painters are resting from their easels.
Our motive therein would be to guide the citizen or
casual stranger to those consecrated spots by the most
L
1 62 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
direct routes, so that even the mercantile minds, who rate
their time at so much current coin of the realm, might pay
an occasional visit without finding a serious deficit in their
cash accounts. The connoisseur, on returning to his gallery,
would feel his interest in a favourite picture enhanced by
knowing where the skilful hand that wrought it lies — for-
getful of its cunning.
CHAPTER XIII.
LITERARY DEANSGATE.
" The Pen and the Press, blessed alliance ! combined
To soften the heart and enlighten the mind ;
For that to the treasures of knowledge gave Birth,
And this sent them forth to the ends of the earth.
Their battles for truth were triumphant indeed.
And the rod of the tyrant was snapped like a reed.
They were made to exalt us, to teach us, to bless —
Those invincible brothers, the Pen and the Press."
J. C. Prince.
AS already shown, the thoroughfare now under treatment
•^*- is sufficiently time-worn. Long an object of interest,
historically and commercially, Deansgate has latterly become
entitled to our sympathy. Placed on the rack of modern
improvements, its venerable frame has been stretched and
tortured until barely recognisable; and it now seems fitting
that some kindly hand should analyse and dissect its dis-
located remains before they disappear from our view. Dis-
pensing with hyperbole, which is holiday-speech, we merely,
in work-a-day words, intend to examine the fallen debris
before it is carted away, scrutinise the hoary foundations
as we find them ruthlessly laid bare, and summon to their
accustomed haunts a few of the choice spirits who once
abode within the fated walls. In comparison with the anti-
quated scene, the characters now introduced are modern,
164 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
being wielders of the feathered quill rather than of the
feathered arrow, and more familiar with the harmless
thunders of the printing-machine than with the far-distant
" artillery " of the Grelles or Greslets, or De la Warres
or Wests.
In a shop situated between the Star Inn and the Three
Arrows resided Mr Joseph Aston, a notable penman and
pressman of the last generation. The earliest glimpse we
obtain of Mr Aston's family is from Mrs Raffald's primi-
tive Manchester Directory, just one hundred years old —
a unique and tiny tome, that can be seen on sufferance
only. That early notice informs us that William Aston
(father of our journalist), gunsmith, dwelt at the bottom of
Deansgate. In 181 1 the address is changed to 53 King
Street, where "William Aston and Son " appear as gun and
pistol makers. Here Mr Aston, senior, died on the 8th of
October 1826, in his ninety-second year; and here, also,
his wife preceded him to the grave in 1808, at the age
of seventy-four.
Since the foregoing was written, we have met with a
business advertisement of an earlier date — August 1770 —
possessing some interest : — " This is to inform the public
that William Aston, gunmaker (from Birmingham), hath
now opened a shop in Deansgate, Manchester, where he
makes and sells all sorts of guns and pistols, mounted
either in silver, steel, or brass, or a remarkably fine pinch-
beck, in the best manner ; where all gentlemen, sportsmen,
tradesmen, and others, who please to favour him with their
commands, may depend on being served on the lowest
terms."
Retracing our steps to October 1790, we meet with a
Literary Deansgate. 165
record of Mr Joseph Aston's marriage to Miss Elizabeth
Preston, " both of this town." Three years later began a
series of friendly communications with James Montgomery,
the Sheffield poet — a correspondence extending over
thirty-four years. In July 1794, on commencing the Iris,
Montgomery (it is the privilege of established favourites,
when respect has ripened into affection, to lose the formal
prefix of Mr) thus addressed Mr Aston :— " The principal
object of this letter is to request the favour of your corre-
spondence in any character you please to assume. The
elegant productions of your liberal and enlightened pen
often graced the last page of the Register" The Register
was a newspaper previously published in Sheffield, and
from its ruins sprang the Iris. Montgomery frequently
submitted his manuscripts to Mr Aston for his critical
opinion, receiving a useful suggestion or a likely topic in
return. These literary correspondents first met at Buxton,
in 1797, and spent a day or two together at Castleton. On
several subsequent occasions they exchanged brief visits at
Manchester and at Sheffield. At one of these meetings Mr
Aston introduced Mr Harrison Ainsworth to Montgomery.
Politically Mr Aston pursued an independent course.
A reformer in his youth, when Liberal opinions were dan-
gerous to the holder, he contributed to the Manchester
Herald, printed in the Market Place, by Messrs Falkner
and Birch, until the office of that paper was violently
attacked by a mob, and all the types thrown into " pye,"
to the tune of Church and King. Composing sticks were
then and there broken, to the detriment of all composure.
Cases suddenly lost their contents — pica, large and small ;
primer, short and tall ; brevier and nonpareil, all left to the
1 66 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
mercy of each minion of the multitude ; English, though
appertaining to their own country, was treated with as
little ceremony as the Galilean bourgeois ; while the dia-
mond was distributed as recklessly as if it were merely
paste, and the pearl was cast forth literally unto swine.
This political riot occurred in the year of grace 1793. In
his more mature years Mr Aston wrote in a Conservative
spirit. Liberty is the dream of our youth, which age too
seldom realises. His poetical fancy found more enduring
charms in the primitive customs and sylvan beauty of old
England than in the changing unrest of these modern
days. The feeling of veneration implanted in the poet's
breast makes him cling to the past, even in decay — he is
the ivy of animated nature.
In 1803 Mr Aston entered into the stationery business,
and Montgomery recommended to him Messrs Long-
mans, as wholesale booksellers, adding some interesting
particulars : — " Towards me and my little volume — [the
" Wanderer of Switzerland "] — they have acted with great
spirit and liberality ; they are printing an edition of one
thousand copies, to sell at five shillings each, at their own
expense and hazard ; and I am to have half of the profits,
still retaining the copyright." In continuation he re-
marks : — " Mr [afterwards Dr] Adam Clarke called on me.
I was delighted with him in private, and astonished at
him in public when I heard him preach. He spoke most
favourably of you, and desired his kindest remembrance."
Adam Clarke was at that time stationed in Manchester as
a Methodist preacher, where he is said to have taken a
leading part in the formation of a philological society, of
which Mr Aston became a member.
Literary Deansgate, 167
In the same year (1803) Montgomery, depressed by
political troubles in connection with his newspaper,
further wrote : — " During this dreary interval I had but
one friend and counsellor at home, Mr Ebenezer Rhodes
[author of the " Peak Scenery "], and another at Manches-
ter, Mr Joseph Aston, with whom I frequently corre-
sponded. To these two I confided my schemes, enter-
prises, and miscarriages ; and they, so far as they could,
consoled me with anticipations of a favourable change in
the taste of the times, or a luckier application of my
talents."
Our intention was to give a complete list of Mr Aston's
productions ; but, finding his pamphlets and reprints con-
cerning local history voluminous, we must be content with
the enumeration of his newspapers, books, and plays.
Prior to the close of the last century he had written a
novel in letters, as evidenced by a note of Montgomery's.
The first work attributed to his press is the "Argus,"
bearing date 1803; but the only "Argus" we can trace
carries the imprint of R. & W. Dean, published in the
succeeding year, no author's name being given. In 1804
he brought out the " Manchester Guide," the precursor of
a long series of provincial guide-books by other hands.
This work, rewritten and embellished with views of public
buildings, afterwards appeared under a new name, " A Pic-
ture of Manchester." Mr Aston's next undertaking was a
newspaper, the prospectus of which will show how simple
and homely were the aspirations of a Manchester editor —
and a clever one — at the opening of the present century.
He had not the remotest idea of " laying down the law,"
as now laid down by the "Thunderer" and other living
1 68 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
magnates of the press. Unfortunately, the tattered
copy — scarcely a broadside — from which we transcribe
is bereft of one corner, and the reader's ingenuity will be
slightly taxed to supply the deficiency caused by wear
and tear and time : —
" Prospectus of a new weekly Manchester newspaper. On Tues-
day, January the ist, iSoj, will be published (price sixpence) a news-
paper, under the title of the Manchester Mail. The population of Man-
chester and its neighbourhood has become so great, and its commercial
consequence risen so high, that it would not be matter for surprise
if speculations were formed in it every day, not only in its staple
manufactures, but in other employments and pursuits of active life,
by those persons who wish to participate in the local prosperity, ' To
share the triumph, and partake the gale.' Actuated by wishes of
this nature, the publisher of this advertisement intends to offer to the
public patronage another newspaper. But in this speculation, to use
the very appropriate words of a prospectus lately published on a
similar occasion, ' The proprietor is not in the least actuated by any-
thing like a spirit of opposition ; disclaiming every idea of attempting
to depreciate the professional or literary merits of contemporary prints,
but erects his hopes of success solely on the fair basis of honest com-
petition.' The editor of the Manchester Mail makes a choice of Tues-
day for the day of publication, in the hope of making his paper a com-
mercial advertiser ; because Tuesday is the commercial market-day,
when the town has a constant influx of respectable visitants, and on
which so very great a proportion of the business of the district is
transacted.
" It has of late years been a rule for the editor of a newspaper to
publish his political creed with his prospectus : but in times like the
present, when every British heart is swelling with anxiety for its
country ; when a generous patriotic pride in national independency,
and a general abhorrence of usurpation have reconciled every jarring
opinion j when every man who possesses the faculty of thought is
exercising it in contemplating the means of averting the boast of the
common enemy of Britain — of Europe — and of . . . . who has
proudly threatened to make this country fall prostrate at the feet x>l
France ; in times like these, when one sentiment appears to pervade
Literary Deansgate. 169
all, ... of the Manchester Mail would deem it insulting to the best
feelings of ... to introduce a political creed into his prospectus.
It might imply that there are Englishmen divided from the sentiment
— the amor pairia, which has drawn so many of their gallant country-
men from their firesides, to form a cordon of defence around that part
of the community whose age, sex, infirmities, or peculiar occupations
unfit them for the sacred task of guarding the birthright of Britons,
and of aiding to perpetuate the chartered blessings which this country,
notwithstanding all the political shocks it hath experienced, still
enjoys — blessings which were purchased by the manly fortitude of our
glorious and venerated ancestors, and cemented to the constitution by
patriotic blood. But, even in times less propitious to harmony of
sentiment than the present, the editor of a newspaper ought not to
assume the situation of a political dictator. In his editorial capacity
he is the servant of the public. When he industriously collects infor-
mation, and reports it faithfully, he is in the line of his duty ; but
when he presumes to obtrude his own political opinions upon the
world, as if he were infallible, he assumes a consequence to which
he has no legitimate claim. The political details of an English news-
paper should be as unlike the slavish pages of a French one as pos-
sible. They should be like the charges of upright British judges to
British juries — ^plain constitutional statements of facts, without en-
deavouring to influence opinions. The Manchester Mail shall be
conducted in conformity to these ideas.
" It would be a waste of words to say what miscellaneous matter
newspapers published in the centre of the most flourishing province
of the British Empire ought to contain. The editor and publisher of
the Manchester Mail only promises that in variety of matter, calcu-
lated to inform or to amuse, he will at the least emulate the best ;
and, if amusement and information be found in its columns, there
can be no doubt of its success ; for it will then be the interest of
advertisers to notice it. To them he particularly offers himself for a
share of their favours, being fully aware that, however kind his liter-
ary friends may be in their communications, however industrious he
may be himself in making selections and obtaining information, or
however extended the sale of the Manchester Mail may be, to adver-
tisements only can he look for remuneration. The Mail will be de-
livered in Manchester every Monday evening, and in the adjacent
country early on Tuesday morning. Orders for the Mail, advertise-
1 70 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
ments, literary communications, and articles of intelligence, will be
gratefully received by Joseph Aston, No. 84 Deansgate, Man-
chester."
An incident more remarkable than the birth of the
Mail occurred here in 1805. During that fortunate year
no poor-rate was laid in this town — an accidental omission
which has been amply atoned for since by the laying and
levying of two rates in a year in lieu of one.
Writing in 1806, Montgomery alludes to Mr Aston's
friend Charles Mayne Young, at that date leading
tragedian at the Theatre in Spring Gardens, and also at
Liverpool. Rising, but not yet risen into eminence, Mr
Young was a frequent visitor at the shop of the new
editor ; and when the actor's wife prematurely died, in the
summer of the said year, his editorial friend proved his
sympathy by penning her epitaph, which is still visible on
her gravestone in Prestwich Churchyard. With a free and
easy faculty for rhyming, Mr Aston was never chary of
his poetical tributes, private or public ; and many may be
called to mind, notably the characteristic description of
his intimate acquaintance Thomas Barritt, the antiquary.
It was the opinion of Montgomery that Mr Aston read
poetry better than he wrote it, being so far different from
some writers he had known. Nevertheless and notwith-
standing, Mr Aston succeeded in poetry according to his
aim — is not that sufficient in all cases } He did not seek
to be a laureate, but preferred to rhyme in a familiar way,
so that all who read might understand. Montgomery
further thought — apart from his Manchester friend — that
no poet should read aloud his own verses, but leave that
privilege to his admirers. In prose, as freely as in rhyme,
Literary Deansgate. 1 7 1
Joseph Aston was quite at home. Ever ready, versatile,
industrious with his pen, he was the John Harland of his
day ; precisely the gentleman for newspaper service and
for practical literary guidance to his fellow-townsmen.
The Mail continued to furnish its patient readers with
the customary tardy intelligence Tuesday after Tuesday,
until it was run off the road by its established rivals,
Harrop's Mercury and Wheeler's Chronicle. In no way
disheartened, Mr Aston removed across the narrow
thoroughfare of Deansgate to more convenient business
premises in St Ann Street, and commenced, in September
1809, the Exchange Herald — the newspaper with which
his name is most frequently associated. This journal he
conducted with popularity and success until 1825. As a
coincidence, it may be remarked that his friend , Montgo-
mery disposed of the Sheffield Iris in the same year — the
latter afterwards asserting that he was one of the earliest
to introduce editorial leaders into a newspaper.
Three dramatic pieces emanated from Mr Aston's
pen — " Retributive Justice," a tragedy ; " A Family
Story," a comedy (1814), written during convalescence,
and dedicated to his wife, who had watched him through
a nervous fever ; and " Conscience," founded on one of
Miss Lee's "Canterbury Tales." This play, the best
known of the three, was first performed on the loth of
February 1815. It proved moderately successful, being
well supported by the stock company of the Theatre
Royal — which company is worth naming — to wit, Vanden-
hoff, Cooper, Bass, Browne, Tayleure, and Mrs Ward.
Mr Aston's theatrical diversions were varied by frequent
contributions to our local history, including the "Lan-
172 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
cashire Gazetteer," the " Patriot," and "Metrical Records
of Manchester," the latter being a humorous reprint, in
1822, from the poets' corner of the Exchange Herald.
On the extinction of the Herald, the editor's long con-
nection with Manchester terminated. Removing to the
land of Tim Bobbin, he started the Rochdale Recorder ;
and while conducting that journal he received, in 1827,
his last letter from Montgomery, Writing a few years
earlier (18 18), the Sheffield poet congratulated Mr Aston
on the promotion of his friend, Alaric A. Watts, to the
editorship of the New Monthly Magazine. The whole of
the letters dating from Sheffield were returned to the
writer by Miss Aston shortly after her father's decease,
and they appear in the " Memoirs of James Montgomery,"
edited by John Holland and James Everett, and pub-
lished, in 1855-56, by Messrs Longman & Co. To that
interesting biography our obligations will be manifest, and
we tender our acknowledgments accordingly.
Referring to Miss Aston, Montgomery thus wrote in
1823 : — "I perused your daughter's stanzas, published in
the New Monthly, with twofold pleasure."
Wishing to obtain a line or two of information from one
who had the pleasure of knowing our local editor and his-
torian in his retirement at Chadderton Hall, near Oldham,
Mr Owen addressed a few queries to the Rev. Canon
Raines, and we subjoin a portion of that gentleman's reply :
— "Milnrow Vicarage, Rochdale, December 2d [1872].
Dear Sir, — I knew Mr Aston very well, and always found
him genial and intelligent. His excellent wife survived
him. I have heard the old man say that he was born in the
same year with George IV.— 1762. He was the friend and
Literary Deansgate. 173
executor of Mr Thomas Barritt, the antiquary, and had in
his possession the celebrated sword of the Black Prince, or
of Edward III., of which so much has just been written. I
wonder what became of it .' — With best wishes, very truly
yours, F. R. RAINES."
Mr Aston seems to have been surrounded to the last by
an affectionate partner and dutiful children. This is much.
In life — in the world's theatre — "all is well that ends well."
Chateaubriand, in a pensive mood, has asserted that " any
hand will serve to reach us the last cup of cold water."
True. The stranger's hand may indeed suffice for the sad
office, while adding to the water's coldness an icy chill — as
the less fortunate brothers of the pen or the press may one
day prove to their sorrow. But when, as with Mr Aston,
the relieving hand is prompted by affection or guided by
filial duty, the parting spirit may well feel soothed, and
•some heart-music from our wedding-chimes may mingle
with our coming funeral-knell.
Learning, by the courtesy of a member of the family,
that the venerable literary worthy lay interred at Tonge,
adjoining Middleton, an obliging friend went thither by a
convenient train, and copied the brief inscription that
follows. The lettering appears on a flat stone, in the
south-west corner of the churchyard, and is supplemented
by other names connected with the family : —
"In memory of Joseph Aston, of Chadderton
HaU, who died October the 19th, 1844, aged
81 years. Also Elizabeth his wife, who died
July the 20th, 1852, aged 84 years."
This inscription on Mr Aston's gravestone is duly
respectful and pleasing, so far as it goes ; but it leaves a
1 74 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
desire for something more. Some reference, however
slight, to his long and honourable connection with the
literature of Lancashire would prove a welcome addition.
Of course two views may be taken of this question, as an
anecdote will serve to illustrate. When Voltaire visited
Congreve, the latter observed in conversation that he felt
prouder of being a gentleman than of being an author.
"Doubtless," retorted the French wit, "there are many
gentlemen in England, but only one William Congreve.
Had you been nothing more than an English gentleman,
even of the highest degree, Voltaire would never have
travelled from Ferney for the pleasure of speaking with
you." Need the similitude be brought nearer home ?
There have doubtless been many respected owners of
Chadderton Hall, but only one Joseph Aston, wielder of
the pen and the press.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE OLD CHURCHYARD.
" Mute place of rest ! We leave our dead,
With hopeful glance on high,
To Him who, watching o'er the world.
Still guards us when we die :
And joy may sparkle in our eyes.
However prone to weep.
To know that, through the Saviour slain,
Our lost ones do but sleep."
Sylvan.
ALTHOUGH, writing literally, a churchyard may not
be termed a street, it is nevertheless the portal,
solemn and mysterious, leading to the Silent Way we are
all destined to tread. From this general category we
must of necessity exclude two unfortunate sections of our
fellow-beings — first, the hopeless suicides who, wildly
anticipating their fate, are buried beneath the uncon-
secrated stones of the cross roads ; and, secondly, the
victims — far more numerous — of the deep sea. In either
case, the sleepers are severed from the epitaph or the
forget-me-not ; and the only monody vouchsafed to the
first is the rumble of the waggon wheel, — to the last, the
fitful wail of Undine, or of some sister Spirit of the
Waters.
Treeless and barren as the yard now appears, with
scarcely a bush within the distance of a mile, it once pos-
1 76 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
sessed spreading branches and seasonable leaves — too
many, indeed, for the public safety. A singular accident,
bearing date January 15, 1581, is thus recorded : — "Margret
Wilson, a Kendall woman, slane with a tree in the church-
yard." Whether the Westmoreland dame was entangled
by the boughs and so " slane," like Absalom in the wood
of Ephraim, or was felled by the storm king in his fury, we
are left to surmise. About this period the " church stile "
is officially mentioned as being then in general use. In
1579 appeared an order of the Court Leet too quaintly de-
scriptive to be omitted here : — " That William Lindley
shall, from the old ancient quickwood standing in the east
end of his garden hedge to the green quickwood beneath
the apple-tree towards the churchyard, set his hedge
straight where now he hath diverged without the apple-
tree." A century later there is further evidence of the
rural aspect of the burial ground, thanks to the curious
diary "maid by Philip Burnell, grave macker:" — "1678,
January ist. — John, sun to John Jepson in Dainsgait, liath
est in the churchyard, about a yerd deep, just at the little
plane tree over against Calin Cum's door." The lapse of
another century wrought little change in the landscape, as
shown by a conveyance dated 1783: — "Down to the
river Irwell, and the whole length from the Irk bridge to
the garden place, then lately enclosed and belonging to
the House of Correction, on which said plot there were
formerly, or then were, poplars and willow-trees growing."
We have lingered as long as may be with the apple-
trees and orchards, in bloom or in fruit, with the gardens
and stiles, of the Old Churchyard. Even now we leave
them regretfully, because Nature never murmurs at a con-
The Old Churchyard. 177
scientious description of her flora, nor feels the least
punctilio when her sylva is faithfully portrayed. In her
secure presence we need not wear the softest Indian
moccasins to prevent an accidental pressure on a tender
corn. But when we return to our fellows — to the family
trees, as expressed in heraldry — the prospect wholly
changes. The juvenile branches diverge so widely from
the parent stems, that often, as Sir Walter Scott found and
affirmed, they are nearer in blood than in disposition or
sympathetic feeling. So any writer who seeks to gratify
both sire and son, and yet meet the public claim for truth-
fulness, will find enough to do. However remote the
subject in hand, or however tenderly treated, some sensi-
tive feehngs may unwittingly be wounded. An incident
will more fully illustrate our meanings Not very long ago,
wishing to recall in print the scenic triumphs of a departed
player, and knowing we could not better please a Thespian
than by linking his name with that of the immortal
Athenian stroller, or by showing his near approach to the
Roman Roscius, we referred to his gravestone for any
dates or other information it might contain. We were
pleased to find the mortuary inscription lengthy and the
suburban grave well kept, but must own to feeling a trifle
crestfallen as v/e perused the chiseled lines which piously
lamented the sinfulness of his early theatrical career. As
we could not serve two masters, any more than the Phari-
sees could serve God and Mammon, we travelled no fur-
ther in the direction indicated, but left the player to his
forgetfulness in the green churchyard. Oblivion often
proves a welcome veil, which never should be lifted with
an unkindly hand.
M
1 78 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
An indenture, made in 171 1, shows that Sarah Broster,
widow, owned the Black Boy Tavern, "together with its
orchards and gardens, lying at the north-east corner of the
Collegiate Church." This property afterwards passed to a
friend of the Broster family, Elizabeth Bennion, of Man-
chester, who devised it in 1784 for the benefit of the
charity school in the Old Churchyard, "supported by the
subscriptions of well-disposed people and by the offer-
ings at the church." Two years later the houses came, by
will, under the guardianship of one of the ministers, who
sold them to a fellow clergyman, the proceeds being added
to the funds of the charity. At a parish meeting, held in
1808, it was announced that "the old charity school in the
churchyard was blown down and destroyed." That build-
ing, never replaced, has passed from the public memory,
but its funds are still distributed in connection with the
Cathedral.
It was on this convenient and consecrated spot, so long
devoted to peace and sanctity, that Mr Whitaker ventured
to construct, alone and unaided, a summer camp for the
Roman soldiers. Here the camp still remains, at least in
print, as likewise in the too-confiding belief of the popu-
lace. But from such unsupported theory Mr Clarke, in his
" Lancashire Gazetteer," thus humorously dissents : — " He
(the reverend historian) concludes, without a shadow of
.proof or reference, that the Romans placed what he calls a
summer camp on the site of the present Collegiate Church,
though no antiquities have been there discovered; as if
soldiers habituated to the sun of Italy could want cooling
in such a climate as this part of Britain must have been in
the early centuries of the Christian era." Mr Whitaker,
The Old CJiMrchyard. 1 79
as we learn from Taylor's " Records of my Life," was one
of the few men whom Doctor Wolcot, a shrewd judge of
mankind, regarded with particular respect for his intel-
lectual powers ; and we are further informed by the same
authority that the Manchester historian told Wolcot " he
envied him the power of making people laugh by his writ-
ings," which, he said, he had often attempted in his own
narratives, but never succeeded. Hence, we may conclude,
his pen-pictures, though sufficiently romantic, were not
enriched with the relieving- lights, the sunny effects, which
genuine humour alone can give. Well might he envy
Peter Pindar this rare quality — peculiarly English — which
Thackeray happily defined as " a mixture of love and wit."
A sweet-tempered offspring, truly.
Several praiseworthy efforts have been made from time
to time by local literary hands to trace the rise and
progress of letterpress printers, booksellers, binders, and
stationers in Manchester, which is in reality tracing the
advancement of mental culture in the town. Only partial
success has rewarded those efforts, leaving somewhat
vague conclusions. The gravestones and parish registers
will now enable us to form a brief authentic record in
chronological order, so far as it seems needful to extend
the subject — to the date of the first Manchester Direc-
tory. Thenceforward the inquiring reader, if patient and
persevering, will be enabled to continue the record for
himself.
After the destruction in 1588 of the wandering and
widely-known Marprelate press, our first traceable stationer
is John Browne, buried in the Old Churchyard on the
lOth of May 1612. Of our next stationer, William Shel-
i8o Memorials of Manchester Streets.
merdine, two items of intelligence are preserved. A
son and namesake of his was baptized in 1619 ; and on
the 20th of February 1653, he was hither borne to his
rest. The long interim is, as regards the Shelmerdines,
a blank. In 1637 was baptized a daughter of Thomas
Smith, " buckbinder." Six years later, on the title-page
of a civil-war tract, Mr Smith appears as a bookseller : —
" Lancashire's Valley of Achor is England's Doore of Hope.
London: Printed for Luke Fawne, and are sold by Thomas
Smith at his shop in Manchester, 1643." While still in
the eventful reign of Charles the First, we meet with
a singular appeal emanating from this tradesman, and
addressed to the Lords of the Privy Council. The tran-
script subjoined was copied from the original in the Public
Record Office, London, communicated by a friend to the
Rosicrucian Brethren of this city, and circulated in one of
their recent reports : —
" Petition of Thomas Smith to his worship to be allowed to con-
tinue the trade of bookseller in Manchester, whither he ]|removed
when the former bookseller left the town, and has furnished the
place with all sorts of Latin and English bookes allowed by authority
to be sold.
" The humble petition of Thomas Smith humbly showeth — That
whereas your petitioner hath been a bookseller this four or five
years in the towne of Barnstaple, and haveing not sufficient tradeing
there to maintain himself and his charge, removed from thence to
the towne of Manchester (where there had beene a bookseller for-
merly, but by his misdemeanor ran himselfe so deeply into men's
debts that he was forced to depart), where your petitioner hath soe
behaved himself and furnished the place with all sorts of Latin and
English bookes allowed by authority to be sold, that he hath gained
ye custom both of towne and countrey. May it therefore please y"^
worship to take the premises into your consideration, and give y'
petitioner (whose conformity to or'" discipline and sufficiency in y"
The Old Churchyard. 1 8 1
trade is certeyfyed by letters testimonial!), such encouragement that
he may continue there in his trade dureing his good behaviour ; and
y' petitioner, his wife, and children shall ever be bound to pray for
y' worship long life and happiness."
This document, interesting in itself, and necessary to
the completeness of our narrative, has induced us to
trespass on the good-nature of the Brotherhood. The
unique gem shone so winningly in its original case, that
we could not resist the temptation of transferring it to
our own casket. We fear kleptomania is contagious.
Commend us to the beaten literary path ! It is so
pleasant to follow in the wake of a conscientious writer
who has cleared away the briars that encumbered the
road. In this way proficiency may be displayed at a
cheap and easy rate !
The gravestone of Thomas Smith was last seen, in
fragments, on the north side of the Cathedral, opposite
the Derby Chapel. Here is all that remained of his
memorial : —
" Here resteth the body
Thomas Smith of Mane
okseller who was
the 27 th day of Febrv
1653"
As the name of the town occurs in almost every entry,
we need not repeat it further. On May Day 1657,
Nathaniel Heathcote,. stationer, buried a son; after which
insertion we must pass from the sombre rule of Oliver
Cromwell — "The Man of Huntingdon" — to the frivolous
reign of. the Merry Monarch, when we find WiUiara
Shelmerdine's business continued by his son Ralph,
who published in 1661 a coronation sermon, preached
1 8 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
at the Collegiate Church by Warden Heyrick. This fact
appears in a contribution of Mr Axon's to Notes and
Queries ; a copy of the sermon itself — now rare — is pre-
served in Mr Crossley's library. Of domestic felicity
Ralph Shelmerdine received more than a common share,
being favoured in 1663 with twin daughters, supplemented
four years later by twin sons. With the last year of the
century his book of life was closed. In 1673 Abraham
Holland, bookseller, Hanging Ditch, became a Benedict;
and at sundry seasons, ending in October 1681, this dealer
is named in connection with the birth or death of his
offspring. In the poll-book of 1690 he is rated for two
children and a maid. His demise is not chronicled; but
he was born at Crumpsall, March 1640. Robert Hilton,
bookseller, married in 1678, took the oath of allegiance
to Charles the Second in the following year, had a son
baptized in 168 r, and then vanishes from the records.
One year further, Mordecai Moxon, stationer, registered
a christening; and on several subsequent occasions Mr
Moxon, personally or by proxy, visited the old font. On
taking the oath of allegiance, accompanied by Robert
Hilton, he was styled " gent." The date of his decease '
does not appear, the latest entry referring to the family
being the burial of his daughter, March 1693. In 1683,
Adam Martindale, the diarist, arranged with " Mr Moxon,
bookseller in Manchester," for the publication of a
pamphlet.
As the two entries that follow next in rotation, though
very brief, possess some historical interest, they are given
verbatim :— " 1692, Sepr. 11, Thomas Hud, of Manchester,
printer," buried. " 1693, March i, Jonathan, son to John
The Old Churchyard. 183
Greenwood, of Manchester, printer," baptized. These
being our earliest printers, careful search has been made
for additional information, but the solitary item given in
each case is all that can be traced.
The next bookseller of the town was Ephraim Johnston,
whose name is repeatedly seen, between 1694 and 1701,
in the Collegiate registers, and who published several con-
troversial pamphlets which are still hoarded by local
collectors. Contemporary with Johnston was Zachary
Whitworth, of Smithy Door. In the poll-book of 1690
Zachary is accredited to the amount of one shilling. As
the tax was a shilling a head, he was. then dwelling alone,
having no poll to pay for except his own. On the 30th
November 1697 he was buried. Zachary's successor,
John Whitworth, likewise of Smithy Door, had a son born
unto him in 1706, and another, Robert, in July 1707.
This Robert, afterwards the well-known printer of the
Manchester Magazme, is erroneously stated in "Collectanea"
to be the son of Henry Whitworth. According to the in-
scription on the family gravestone, at Cross Street Chapel,
John Whitworth died August 2, 1727, aged sixty-four.
An amateur dealer in literary wares at that period was
Edmund Harrold, a wigmaker by trade, whose picturesque
shop in Market Stead Lane was not a whit more peculiar
than its tenant, as his queer diary demonstrates. With a
habit of bartering, he sometimes took books in payment
for wigs, again parting with the volumes in return for plain
hair, which his nimble fingers quickly converted to profit-
able uses. When exchanges were not available, he made
cash purchases, chiefly from his neighbour in Smithy
Door, John Whitworth, though he blames him for having
184 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
two notes — " either to extol or run down commodities, as
served his interest." Harrold drew out a catalogue of his
books ; held public auctions ; and when Manchester buyers
were served, he travelled to Ashton, Stockport, and other
surrounding places in search of fresh bidders. So Edmund
Harrold may be considered our original literary Cheap John.
Roger Adams, as many readers are aware, was the
printer and proprietor of the first Manchester newspaper,
issued in January 17 19. The first book, also, printed in
this town is accredited to his office ; although that point
is debatable, one fact is clear — no Manchester-printed
book bearing an earlier date than Roger's is at present
producible. Nothing seems to be known of Mr Adams
prior to the birth of his journal. In all probability he
came from Chester, whither he ultimately returned, and
conducted the Chester Courant until his decease, when it
was continued by his widow. Very soon after settling
here, his name is found in our registers — the births and
burials being frequent. On the 17th of April 1720,
his twin son and daughter — Orion and Dorothy — were
baptized. A copy of the inscription on the flat stone „
covering his family grave in the Cathedral yard, near the
Hope and Anchor Tavern, will be of some interest through
its associations, besides constituting a residential proof : —
" Here resteth the body of Peter, son to
Roger Adams, of Manchester, Printer,
bur'd Novbr ye 9, 1 7 1 9.
Roger, his son, buried March the
1 2th 172I.
Thos. his son buried Janry ye
4th 1725."
Orion, the surviving son of Roger Adams, was one of
The Old Churchyard. 185
those rolling stones that seldom gather moss, or if gather-
ing, seldom retain. A little maiden picking buttercups
is just as thrifty, and not an unfitting emblem of the
itinerant printer whom everybody knew and liked. If
her pinafore be filled to overflowing with the yellow
favourites, they escape at their own " sweet will " as she
stoops to place a flower under the chin of her playmate,
a.sking innocently, " Do you like butter ? " Pity he did
not write his wayward memoirs, leaving them as a
legacy to posterity. Such book would have been a
suitable companion to Ryley's " Itinerant." To either
hero would the witty description of a spendthrift equally
apply—
" John ran so long, and ran so fast,
No wonder he ran out at last ;
He ran in debt, and then, to pay.
He gave leg-bail, and ran away."
Orion's roving habits prevented his succession to his
father's steady business ; but he branched oiif upon his
own account, and as a master-printer tried his fortune at
various towns in England and Ireland. At Manchester
his chief speculations were the Humourist, published in
1750;* and, two years later, Orion Adamses Weekly
Journal. The latter half of his life was passed in work-
ing as a journeyman or in lengthy pedestrian excursions —
never allowing the grass to grow under his active feet.
* The only number of the Humourist we have seen is thus fully de-
scribed on its first page : — " The Humourist : or Magazine of Magazines.
Calculated for the Improvement and Entertainment of the People of Lanca-
shire, Cheshire, &c. Numb. III. For Saturday, November 3, 1750. To be
continued once a Fortnight. Manchester : Printed by Orion Adams, at the
Smithy-Door ; where Printing Work in general is neatly performed, at
Reasonable Rates. MDCCL. Price Twopence."
1 86 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
He is described as the cheery and welcome companion
of typos and of players. However far his vagaries might
lead him, Orion usually returned to Chester as his home.
From that ancient city he started on his wedding trip to
Frodsham ; and near its noted walls and rows he breathed
his last, at the age of seventy-seven. Dying wellnigh
penniless, Orion required no lawyer to frame his last will
and testament, nor was any legacy duty payable thereon.
For further particulars touching Orion Adams, the reader
is referred to the " Dictionary of Printers and Printing," by
Charles H. Timperley — one of those patient writers who
perform more useful work for the public than the public
ever reward. Of Mr Timperley, though living in our own
time and neighbourhood, we never knew much. Once or
twice we called at his little bookshop, at the corner of
Old Millgate, holding him in conversation while buying
a copy of his "Annals of Manchester," which was the
extent of our acquaintance. But we know from other
sources that he had his share of the shifting scenes of life,
mainly of a downward tendency. A footnote appended
to the preface of his principal work, issued in 1839, is
more explanatory : — " I received the rudiments of my edu-
cation at a day-school in my native town, Manchester,
and was afterwards removed to the Free Grammar School,
under the Rev. Thomas Gaskell. Early attached to read-
ing, I have remained all my life an ardent inquirer after
knowledge. From the month of March 1810 (being then
little more than fifteen years of age), to November 28,
1815, my days were passed in the 33rd Regiment of Foot,
from which I obtained my discharge (with a pension of
one shilling a day) in consequence of wounds received
The Old Churchyard. 187
at the battle of Waterloo. During those years I had few
facilities of self-improvement. Having been apprenticed
to an engraver and copperplate printer, I resumed the
latter on returning from the army ; but, from a distaste
and other causes, in the year 1821 I adopted the pro-
fession of a letterpress printer, under indenture with
Messrs Dicey & Smithson, proprietors of the North-
amptott Merairy. Adopting the profession of a printer
with the view of affording me that literary information
which I so ardently desired, I endeavoured to become
acquainted with its history. From this desire arose the
' Lectures,' at Warwick ; the ' Songs of the Press,' at
Nottingham ; and, finally, the ' Dictionary of Printers and
Printing,' with the 'Printer's Manual,' at Manchester."
Learning incidentally, by an article in the Bookseller,
February 1861, that Mr Timperley had died while writ-
ing for Messrs Fisher of London, we referred to the
obituary columns of Sylvanus Urban for corroborative
evidence, but in vain. The departed scribe, who had
lovingly recorded names and dates and ages for countless
others, apparently found no recorder of his own demise.
A correspondent of the Manchester and Salford Gazette
states that Mr Timperley, in 1845, ^^s associated with
Mr G. N. Wright in the editorial part of "The Gallery of
Engravings," three volumes quarto ; and afterwards adver-
tised a new book entitled " Laconics of the Press," which
remains, we believe, unpublished. The unsold copies of
Mr Timperley's "Manual" and "Dictionary" passed from
Messrs Bancks to a London publisher, who, in 1842, re-
issued them together as one work, under a new title, " The
Encyclopaedia of Literary and Typographical Anecdote."
CHAPTER XV.
THE RESTING-PLACE.
" I call the world a gay good world.
Of its smiles and bounties free ;
But Death, alas ! is the king of the world,
And he holds a grave for me.
The world hath gold, it is bright and red ;
It hath love, and the love is sweet ;
And praise, like the song of a lovely lute ;
But all these with Death must meet.
_ Death will rust the gold, and the fervid love
He will bury beneath dark mould ;
And the praise he will put in an epitaph,
Written on marble cold ! "
Maria Jane Jewsbury.
ONCE more in the Cathedral Yard. The heavy-
sleepers, countless in their number and endless
in their variety, who have been hither borne, and whose
dust has been accumulating (as we will endeavour to
show) upwards of a thousand years, have silready found
their historians in a costly illustrated work, "The Foun-
dations in Manchester," the joint production of Messrs
Hibbert-Ware, Whatton, and Palmer. Many inscriptions
are there copied, while the burial-ground and its sanc-
tuary are treated with considerate assiduity. Consi-
derate any churchyard gleaner will assuredly be who
remembers he is merely a passing arbiter between the
coming and the gone, and that at any moment the Sister
The Resting-P lace. 189
Fates may again close their shears. Even now, the names
of these authors, all three, are found in the obituaries —
their " labours of love " being all that remain to the world.
So, briefly and simply, as one of the generation next
succeeding, we will pay unto them the same courtesy of
remembrance which they have paid unto others.
The remains of Dr Hibbert-Ware rest beneath a hand-
some monument in Ardwick Cemetery. The upper com-
partment of the slab bears a tribute to the memory of
his brother, Lieutenant-Colonel J. Hibbert, C,B., late of
the 40th Regiment, who died November 12, 1847. Under-
neath appears the following inscription : —
" Here are also interred the remains of
Samuel Hibbert-Ware, M.D., F.R.S. Ed.,
&c., formerly Vice-president of the Antiquarian
Society of Scotland, author of the ' History
of the Founders of the College and Collegiate
Church of Manchester,' the ' History of the
Shetland Islands,' the ' Philosophy of Ap-
paritions,' and various other works. He was
bom in St Ann's Square, on the 24th April
1782, and died at his residence. Hale Barns,
Cheshire, on the 30th December 1848."
At the back of the slab appear inscriptions to the memory
of Sarah, first wife of Dr Hibbert' Ware, who died in 1822,
and was buried at Edinburgh ; William, his second son,
who was surgeon of the 15th Hussars, and perished near
Hyderabad on the 30th January 1837, in consequence of
the setting on fire of a jungle by some hostile natives ;
Sarah, his daughter, who died on the I2th of August
1839, and was buried at Knaresborough, Yorkshire ; and
Charlotte Wilhelmina, his second wife, who died on the
190 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
1st of August 1835, and was also buried at Knares-
borough. One other name may now be added : Elizabeth,
his third wife, died at Hale Barns, near- Altrincham, on
the nth of May 1873, aged seventy-three years, being
interred at Bowdon.
It was the expressed intention of Dr Hibbert-Ware, had
his life been prolonged, to continue the history of our
ancient church to the recent period when it became a
Cathedral. In the three volumes of the "Foundations"
already published, the manuscript collection of Mr John
Greswell, a former schoolmaster at Chetham's College,
proved of essential service.
With respect to Mr Whatton, we regret that a lack of
information will prevent us from rendering adequate
justice to his memory. Seeing that he was a member of
the Literary and Philosophical Society of Manchester, and
also the librarian, we referred with some confidence
to its published " Transactions " for an appreciative memoir
of its talented past officer, but failed in our search. The
local newspapers of the day were little more communicative
or satisfactory in their obituary notices, one journal stating
his age to be forty-five, another fifty. However, the vary-
ing prints agreed that "William Robert Wharton, Esq.,
F.R.S., F.A.S., and one of the surgeons to the Royal
Infirmary, died on the Sth inst. [December 1835], in
Portland Place, after a severe suffering." The members
of the Medical Society addressed to Mrs Whatton a letter
of condolence on the bereavement which separated one
of their brethren from his dearest connections "almost at
the moment when he was realising the main object of his
ambition and the reward of his past labours." It is known
The Resting-Place. 1 9 1
that Mr Whatton meditated and partly executed an
extensive biographical work embracing the Worthies of
Lancashire; but, after inserting a few of the memoirs
in his History of the Free Grammar School and of
Chetham's Hospital, he confided the remainder of his
materials to Mr Baines, who incorporated them with his
history of the county.
Mr John Palmer was a native of Bishop Middleham,
Durham. A manuscript leaf in his handwriting states
that "in February 1804, Mr Palmer removed from his
native place to Scoon Palace, near the city of Perth, in
Scotland, when he was nineteen years of age. At Scoon
Palace he remained nearly three years, during which
time he learned the rudiments of architecture, while
that palace was in progress of rebuilding. From Scoon
he went to London, and remained there about two years ;
hence in March 1808 he went to Yarmouth, in Norfolk, and
remained there during the time the Naval Hospital
was erecting at that place. While he remained at
Yarmouth he married Miss Smith of Norwich ; and in
the spring of 181 1 he again returned to London; and
after continuing there upwards of two years, he removed
to Manchester in August 1813. In 18 14 he commenced
the restoration of the window in Strangeways Chapel,
within the Collegiate Church, Manchester; and from time
to time continued the restoration of the fabric of the
church for some years. The Catholic Chapel in Granby
Row was not only designed by him, but executed
under his superintendence." Mr Palmer's literary works
were the " Siege of Manchester " and the " Architectural
Description of the Collegiate Church." The following
192 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
inscription is copied from his gravestone: — "Johannes
Palmer, architecta, obiit die 23 mensis Augusti 1846 anno,
setatis suae 63. Also of Harriet, wife of the above John
Palmer, who departed this life September 28, 1852, aged
61 years."
Scarcely any portion of the " History of the Foundations
in Manchester " need be quoted in these columns. That
which is already well done should be allowed to rest.
No newcomer would be justified in making a hasty raid
over literary ground already efficiently traversed. The
points of interest necessarily overlooked by the writers
of that work, together with the new matter — or rather
the old resuscitated since their time, — will be found amply
sufficient for the present purpose.
Resuming the chronological list of printers, binders,
booksellers, and stationers commenced in the previous
chapter, the first in order is William Clayton, who was here
baptized in August 1679, ^'^^ married at the beginning
of 1708. It appears he served his apprenticeship with
Ephraim Johnston, bookseller, already mentioned, and
succeeded him in a prosperous business. At his shop at
the Conduit, in 1719, he had the credit of introducing
to the town Mr Jackson's " Mathematical Lectures,"
considered to be the first book printed in Manchester.
Another local work of his publishing, dated 1724, was
" An Introduction to the Skill of Music," by Edward Betts,
organist of the Collegiate Church. In the year next
ensuing he died. From his gravestone within the Cathe-
dral two items may be selected : — " William Clayton,
stationer, buried April 3, 1725, aged 46 years." "Rev.
John Clayton, M.A., Fellow of this College, died Sepr. 25,
The Resting-Place. 193
1773, aged 64 years." The minister was one of the sons of
the stationer. We need not dwell on this reverend gentle-
man's familiar interview with Prince Charlie at the head
of the rebel army in 1745, nor upon the interest with
which he witnessed the Manchester regiment mustered
in the Old Churchyard ; these incidents, together with
his flight and return to his ministry, are patent to the
citizens. Of the Rev. John Clayton a characteristic trait ■
appears in the journal of Charles Wesley, who visited
Manchester in 1756: — "I stood close to Mr Clayton in
church (as all the week past), but not a look would he
cast towards me, ' So stiff was his parochial pride.' "
Mr William Clayton's bookselling and stationery business
was continued during a few years by his youngest son and
namesake, who dying at the youthful age of twenty-six,
was here interred, January 27, 1736. The oldest refer-
ence in the registers to this family applies to the baptism
of the minister's grandsire, as thus : — " 1644, Oct. 13, John,
son of Samuel Clayton."
Contemporary with the younger Clayton was Robert
Whitworth — so far, at least, as the morning and evening of
life, or the beginning and ending of commercial pursuits,
may be called contemporary. As the printer of the second
Manchester newspaper, more attention has been paid by
previous writers to Robert Whitworth than to the majority
of our bygone pressmen ; so we may briefly add our mite
of information and pass on. His printed books and pam-
phlets yield evidence that he became a master-printer
while very young, probably upon the decease of his father,
in 1727, and thereupon removed from Smithy Door to a
shop in the Market Place—" betwixt the Angel and Bull's
N
194 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Head Inns " — as thus defined by himself in a permanent
line printed at the top of his Manchester Magazine. The
earliest book known to be printed by Robert Whitworth
is a volume of miscellaneous poems, bearing the date of
1733. Mr Whitworth was twice married ; in 1741 at Man-
chester, and seven years later at Stretford. He died 27th
October 1772, aged sixty-five. The burial-place of the
Whitworths is at Cross Street Unitarian Chapel.
Mr Whitworth's long-tenanted shop has been rescued
from oblivion. In 1823, when the doom of Market-stead
Lane had been pronounced, a local artist, John Ralston,
hastened to snatch a general view of the Market Place
before its aspect became entirely metamorphosed. A
similar " labour of love " had been previously performed by
Messrs James. Mr Whitworth's shop — with projecting
staircase and railed terrace — was then (1823) dignified as
the " Post-office," being in the occupation of Mr James
Harrop, who died in that year. The site of those peculiar
premises may be readily traced, inasmuch as the original
Bull's Head still surveys, with a surly nonchalance, the
altered prospect around, albeit his gentle neighbour, the
Angel, hath taken wing from his frowning side.
The busy yet homely scene preserved by the artists
represents Manchester at market in the third year of the
reign of "the fat Adonis of fifty." Our parents are shown
in the act of bartering (doubtless with due thriftiness) for
the good things of the table, — " table traits," as Dr Doran
might define them,T— whilst we of the present generation
were standing in wonderland at our mother's side, or left
cosily in cradles to dream of the angels, or smile in
recognition of those mysterious visitants, who are poeti-
The Resting-Place. 195
cally supposed to keep watch and ward over the blossom-
ing affairs of babyhood. The holiday group in front of
the saddler's shop seem a disappointed group, — possibly
country cousins come to enjoy all the fun of Acre's Fair,
and find it just removed to Camp Field ; or they may be
amateur turfites, who, having lost their wages in betting
against the Doge of Venice winning the gold cup on
Kersal Moor, are doubtless surveying with deep sighs the
well-provisioned market. The cluster standing beneath
the oil-lamp have more important business in hand ; a
general meeting of the inhabitants is about to be held in
the Exchange (with Dr Davenport Hulme in the chair), for
the purpose of founding the Royal Institution. The con-
sequential gentleman nearest to the entrance is clearly one
of the long line of Johnny Newcomes, with trade-filled
purses, who have since bought up so many of the landed
gentry. In the solitary figure adjacent to the railing,
there can be little difficulty in recognising Mr Wootton,
who, in this year, came all the way from Nottingham to
remove the dangerous ball and cross from the tall,
tapering spire of St Mary's Church, Parsonage. We must
now hasten, like General Morris's woodman, to " leave the
spot ; " else the large market spectacles may look into our
motives for tarrying so long, as once they scrutinised the
late Joseph Perrin, while peering hereabouts for his Green
Mantle. So turn we again to our booksellers.
In a contribution to Notes and Queries, Mr Axon states : —
" There was a bookseller in Manchester named Thomas
Hodges, who published a charge of Bishop Peploe's ; " but
we have failed in our search for further traces of such
publisher. Neither can we fill the vacancies left by two
196 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
vague initials, "A. S.," printer of a short-lived journal in
1738-39. After passing a baptismal entry touching the
daughter of one Richard Lees, bookbinder, bearing date
October 1738, and then glancing at the burial record,
three years afterwards, of William Holmbe, printer, the
name of Falkner thus appears in the Collegiate registers : —
" 1742, June 16, Mary, daughter of Matthew Falkner,
bookseller," was buried. Another Matthew Falkner — the
Matthew — was married to Ann Harrop, in July 1764.
From the entrance of the first member of that family to
the exit of the last, nigh upon a century elapsed ; and the
several branches of the bookmaking and newspaper trade
engaged their attention. Mr Falkner in 1773 was trading
in the Market Place — formerly the literary Rialto of the
town, where all the bookworms clustered. In our thirteenth
chapter we briefly described the demolition by a mob of
Messrs Falkner & Birch's Herald office, and the sequel
of that political outrage is now presented. The statement,
taking the obituary form, is from the pen of Mr Joseph
Aston, a personal friend of the sufferers, and is worth
reviving here, as showing the shady side of a Manchester
street:— "On the 8th inst. [March ^1824] died, in the
eighty-sixth year of his age, at Burnley, Mr Matthew
Falkner, formerly of this town, where he carried on the
business of a stationer and bookseller with both credit and
profit, till, seduced into political opposition, and submitting
to be made the catspaw of a party that deserted him in the
adversity which followed, one of the kindest-hearted of
mankind was driven from his country, and his fortunes, till
then prosperous, entirely ruined. He remained in America
from the year 1793 till 1806, when he returned to England,
The Resting- Place. 197
in the vain hope of rescuing a part of his property from
the whirlpool in which it was involved. He whose hand
records his death well knew the worth of Matthew Falkner,
who in early life ate the bread of active industry, in middle
life shared his prosperity with every child of want who told
him a tale of misery, and in his age was dependent on one
whom he once hoped to enrich."
Two brothers, Thomas and William Newton, were con-
sidered dealers of mark by the book-buyers of their period.
When the inscription on the gravestone of the Newtons
was copied by Mr Owen, a few years ago, a very small
fragment remained to tell the .family story. John, the
elder of the house, was parish clerk of this town ; his son
Thomas kept the old Coffee-house near the Exchange,
subsequently conducted by his widow — the sons of the
said Thomas being the booksellers. The death of one of
these bibliopolists, and the marriage of the other, are thus
chronicled in the Mercury: — "Last week [February 1758],
died, much lamented [aged thirty-seven], Mr Thomas
Newton, an eminent bookseller of this town. With an
uncommon share of good nature, he preserved the esteem
of all his friends, and acquired the ill-will of nobody. The
business will be carried on by his only brother." The wed-
ding is announced in the descriptive and communicative
terms usually applied in the last century, which seem a
little comical to modern readers, because a simpler style
prevails ; but Taste is a terrestrial comet, ranging without
a fixed orbit, while her twin-sister Fashion is ever chang-
ing with the moon. " On Tuesday last [April 1762], was
married at the Collegiate Church, Mr William Newton,
bookseller, to Miss Parren, an agreeable young lady with
198 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
a handsome fortune." We fancy Miss Parren would
scarcely feel complimented on finding herself merely
" agreeable," while her fortune was so decidedly " hand-
some." William Newton was still pursuing the trade with
success in 1773, and occupied one of a row of shops stand-
ing at the entrance to the present Exchange Street. A
view of the homely range, sketched by the timely pencil
of Thomas Barritt, has found a niche in the College scrap-
book, as likewise in our own pages. Mr William Newton
died in April 1794. A few traces of the Rev. Thomas
Newton — ^William's son — are given in the first volume of
the " Admission Register of the Manchester School," pub-
lished by the Chetham Society.
Abraham Clarke, who impressed his name as a book-
seller upon the memory of the Manchester public, originally
came, it appears, from Cumberland. In 1748, and again
in September 1754, he was married at the^ Collegiate
Church. The extensive and profitable concern which he
created was retained in his family during a long series of
years. Over the clear, unruffled tide of their affairs it is
pleasant to skim, in swallow fashion, until our flight is
arrested by the warning injunction which bids us " look to the
end," such end being a family grave, situated at the eastern
part of St Ann's Churchyard. The inscription on the flat
stone may be read as follows : —
" Here lyeth the body of Abraham Clarke,
bookseller, who died May 20, 1775, aged 60.
Arabella, wife of Abraham Clarke, bookseller,
who died May the 31, 1754, aged 35 years.
Also Isaac Clarke, bookseller, his nephew,
who departed this life June 18, 18 16, aged 72
PRINTING OFFICE OF HARKOP'S "MERCURY." 1752.
The Resting-P lace. 199
years. Ann Clarke, wife of Isaac Clarke, of
Manchester, who died October 6, 18 10, aged
63 years."
In approaching the next in rotation, Joseph Harrop, it
is somewhat difficult to conceive that one hundred and
twenty-two years have gone by since he launched his
Mercury, which is still a source of frequent reference to the
literary antiquaries of the district. Many are the hours,
yea, days, that we have sat in the sunlight reading in its
yet living columns the records of the buried past. Of
course, not in the sunlight as it glistened upon dewdrops,
but in the beneficent rays that gleamed through the
painted windows of the College recess. In April 1749,
Joseph Harrop and Ellen Williamson were married at the
Cathedral, and three years afterwards he started his long-
lived newspaper. One of its early issues — the ninth, we
believe — ^was adorned with a singular picture of the printing
office, wherein the Mercury staff is shown busily engaged
in the production of the two small leaves of intelligence of
which that weekly newspaper consisted. As both printers
are assiduous, the tardy publishing day seems approaching,
when a very limited number of copies would be required,
chiefly by traders at the market. The facsimile here
traced will form a curious counterpart to the modern office
of a leading daily newspaper — a huge pile of building,
crowded with hurried workers ; while the noise of its
marvellous machinery, and the nightly blaze of its gas,
may faintly typify the warfare of the elements. Elsewhere
Mr Harrop's public career as a journalist has been narrated,
and it may suffice to add a few reliable facts of a domestic
nature, gleaned from his gravestone in St John's Church-
200 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
yard, Byrom Street. The names of a few juveniles are
omitted.
" Here resteth the body of Joseph Harrop,
who died January 20th, 1804, aged 76 years.
Ellen, wife of Joseph Harrop, printer, who
died January 12th, 1772, aged 44 years.
Mary, his wife, who died December 25 th,
1 801, aged 56 years. Thomas Harrop, who
died April 25th, 1843, aged 62 years. James
Harrop, died January 12th, 1775, aged 34.
In an adjoining grave are interred Mr Harrop's three
daughters as under-named : — Frances, died March 23,
1791, aged 16; Mary, died December 14, 1856, aged -j^;
and Sarah Ann, who died at the age of 84, on the 17th of
September 1862. Beneath another stone in the same
churchyard reposes Mr Harrop's best-known son and
successor — " James Harrop, who departed this life February
the 22nd, 1823, aged 60 years. Also Nancy Elvins, his
wife, who departed this life 23rd May 181 1, aged 44 years."
Mr James Harrop was a person of multifarious business
pursuits, described in the Directory for 1797 as " printer
bookseller, stationer, stamp distributor, medicine vendor,
and post-office."
On Saturday, 9th March 1754, appeared the second
number of the Manchester Journal, printed and published
by J. Schofield and M. Turnbull, "at their printing-office
down the Fountain Court, at the back of the Exchange ;
where all manner of printing work is performed with the
greatest accuracy and despatch. At their shop in the
Deansgate also may be had new books and pamphlets,
maps, pictures, &c., where books are bound in the neatest
manner. At either of which said places subscriptions and
The Resting-P lace. 201
advertisements for this paper are taken." Mr James
Schofield afterwards became a bookseller at Scarborough,
where he died in August 1798, aged sixty- three. Of
Mr M. Turnbull we have no further account.
In January 1756, T. Anderton, bookseller, binder, letter
case and pattern book maker, was in business in the Old
Millgate, at the Shakespeare's Head, near the Market
Cross. In 1762 he printed and published the Manchester
Chronicle; or Andertoti s Universal Advertiser. He further
undertook general engraving work, especially signs and
cyphers upon innkeepers' tankards and cups — the durable
drinking vessels then in vogue.
John Prescott, printer of another Manchester Journal, in
1771, was, like Mr Anderton, a bookseller in Old Millgate.
After a lengthened residence here, he removed to Bedford,
near Leigh, where he died, aged seventy-nine, on the 13th
of April 181 1. At the same village, in December 1824,
died his only surviving daughter, Miss Prescott. She was
the writer of a small volume of poems.
John Haslingden, bookseller, stationer, and occasional
publisher, residing and trading in Cannon Street during
the greater portion of a long life, terminated his business
career at the close of the last century. His period will be
indicated by the dates of his two marriages — first, in 1760,
at Liverpool, and secondly, in 1787, at Rochdale.
The next five appearing on our list are ephemerals,
possibly workers who never rose to be masters, or who
left the town to rear their families elsewhere : — Edward
Warren, printer, 175 S; John Pue, printer, 1760; William
Norton, printer, 1761 ; James Bottomley, printer, 1763 ;
Thomas Roylance, stationer, 1771 ; were each and sever-
2 o 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
ally united to their brides-elect at the dates given, but
nothing further is seen of them. Within the same period
two other typos were duly present with their partners
at the altar — Robert Blacklock, in 1759, and Charles
Wheeler, in 1770; but with these surviving names we are
not prepared to linger beyond quoting a portion of an
epitaph that appears near the north door of the Cathedral :
— " Here resteth the body of Charles Wheeler, of Manches-
ter, who died on the 9th of September 1827, aged j6 years.
Mary, his wife, died November 13, 1796, aged $0 years."
John Hopps, bookseller, described as a worthy and re-
spected character, lies buried on the north side of Flixton
Church, nearly opposite the entrance to the well-known
and well-worn footpath leading through Mr Wright's
grounds. The following is a verbatim copy (save one
corrected figure) of the inscription on the flat stone cover-
ing his remains : — " In memory of John Hopps, late of
Manchester, bookseller. He was born on the 4th day of
March O. S. 1740, at a village call'd Helwith, near Rich-
mond, in the North Riding of Yorkshire, and departed
this life October the 30th, 1823, in the 83rd year of his
age. Also Betty, his wife, departed this life August 14th,
1804, aged 50 years." The bookselling business of John
Hopps, with the addition of a circulating library, remained
in his family until 1840.
Casting a backward glance at Thomas Hodges (page 195
ante), it now appears that the fifty-seventh number of the
Lancashire Journal, printed and published by John Berry,
at the Dial near the Cross, on Monday, July 30, 1739, con-
tains an advertisement of certain books " on sale by Mr
Newton and Mr Hodges, booksellers in Manchester."
The Resting-Place. 203
Having now brought our chronological record to the
date — 1772 — when the first Manchester Directory was pub-
lished, we may transfer our office of indicator to that mer-
cantile guide, and seasonably take our leave of the printing,
binding, stationery, bookselling, and newspaper depart-
ments of the trade.
In the chapter thus closing we are afraid we have offered
to the reader that which we would rather avoid — a dry
catalogue of facts and figures, a classified resume of dates
and occurrences, unrelieved by romantic incident or poetic
fancy. Of course, in a commercial city the utilitarian
element will be fairly appreciated ; yet even here we soon
become wearied of its sternness and sameness, which
beget a longing for a few rose-leaves to blend with the
thorns.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE DENE GATE OF YORE.
" Dear me ! what a large portion of ' the world ' bows down to the goddess
Appearance ! We had shops once, but we have none now. Our shops have
become ' Emporiums,' ' Marts,' ' Saloons,' ' Pantechnethecas.' The goddess
Appearance smiles on them, and they thrive : but the music of a Blondel's
lute shall yet solace simple Truth in her captivity."
William Francis Peacock.
"O Y the Dene Gate of Yore we mean the narrow path-
^-^ way which, existing from very remote years, began at
the Old Bridge and ended at the Blenorchard or Walle-
greenes. The Blenorchard has been described as a wilder-
ness of trees and underwood, occupying the space between
the modern Bridge Street and Jackson's Row, or there-
abouts. To this vague scene no precise date can be
affixed ; but certainly Time has pursued his unwearying
pilgrimage during many hundreds of years since the last
of those trees was felled. With that uncertain yet
romantic period this chapter will find little concern.
Being rich in the materials of which melodramas are con-
structed, the barons and castles, the magicians and caves,
have been efficiently treated by Mr Harrison Ainsworth,
and by other Manchester writers of less literary mark.
This relieves us much. Had the task been left in our
hands, we might have hesitated before placing our unin-
sured life within arrow-range of those threatening loop-
THE SOUTH WEST TROSTECT OE M4JVCHESTER, TV THE CODWTY EATJlTIAE Of
(um^/ieJ-^^r r^ ?iea/ier ?3cmmf/i 7H/T- ^h^lim^^ilm, itU' a, .f/iaai^u./. ru:/i, ami /u^mMi/ <9n/ani^ %n/fi, /«■ d^cr J^imi^re/ cr^lja0rn/. an^,yifja/i 6a^ /cart- ^Z^' X'df^^M-/iir^,:^l/iM/r ty^^m a ^Iv/ti,^ ^'/^, ai- fAr ctr?i/iu^^-^ i/f£id-7iH,'t^rjf/?'A., ^fc ■%-n^l, ^tni/ini/ rt a?7 /^/nr TiiirrtA MJ-i
'VEST JPMOSrBCT OF MAJVCHESTER, EV TETE COEIVTY EAEATIAE OE EAJVCylSEEJE
The Dene Gate of Yore. 205
holes ; with the frowning barons, mailed, lanced, and
shielded, our acquaintance would be scarcely more con-
genial; and from all incantations of the black art, or
piercings of bewitching eyes, preserve us.
The wilderness of underwood having gradually yielded
to the exigencies of town life, the spot was agreeably
suburban in 171 1, and known, as now, by the designation
of Ridge Field, its characteristics being verdant meads and
cherry-gardens. A number of deeds, leases, and the like,
containing earlier notices of the Ridge family, were in the
possession of a city shopkeeper a few years ago, but have
now vanished, probably wasted by piecemeal, or pum-
melled to obliteration by some industrious goldbeater's
hammer. In Dugdale's " Visitation " appears a reference
to " Robert Ridge, of Ridge, county Salop, gent. ob. circa
1 560 ; " but the first of the family connected with Man-
chester was his great grandson, Robert Ridge of Marple,
married at our Collegiate Church, in January 1614, to
Helen Shepley (not Shepheard, as printed in Dugdale's
" Visitation "). This Robert was buried at Warrington in
1669. We have been favoured with a lengthy list of their
births, deaths, and marriages, occurring mainly at Stock-
port, Romiley, and Manchester, and ranging between the
years 1584 and 1825. One item is peculiar, giving a
glimpse of English social life during the Protectorate — a
brief period of time, but full of strange fascinations for the
student of history — " 1656, Richard Hartley and Frances
Ridge, of Marple, published at the Market Cross, in Stock-
port, 6th, 13th, and 20th of June." Another document,
anno domini 1673, relates to a transfer of a burgage or
tenement, with one garden, near a certain street commonly
2o6 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
called the Danesgate, from Jonathan Ridge and Jane his
wife to Edward Mosley of Holme and Edward Gay thorn
of Manchester. In addition to the records already cited,
there is in the middle aisle of Stockport Church a broken
gravestone to the memory of Grace Ridge, aged eighty-
three, grand-daughter of the aforesaid Jonathan.
Crossing over to the Parsonage, we find that, in 1780,
one of its residents was Mr John Quincey, linen-draper,
uncle to the "English Opium-Eater." In the previous
year Mr Quincey was married to Miss Martha Goodyear,
of Ardwick. His residence was bounded, it seems, on the
north and west by "a narrow street or passage called
Black Fryars ; " while on the other points of the vane his
prospect is thus shown by an extract from a lease dated
1758 : — "The orchard or garden plot adjoining the river;
it is now fenced out with hedges and ditches." Some
years earlier mention is made of a summer-house, fruit
trees, and plants in abundance, with " free liberty of way
to the spring or well called the Parsonage Well." In
1686, Thomas Heyrick of Manchester, gentleman, leased
a " tenement and parcel of land abutting upon a messuage
and garden heretofore in the possession of George Tipping,
deceased, and now the dwelling-house of the warden
[Richard Wroe] of the said College ; bounded on the east
part with the old Parsonage ditch adjoining to the tene-
ment of Mr John Oldfield. Close by are or were the
residences of John Nield, Hugh Boardman, Richard
Haworth, Esq., and lately Jane Haworth, his widow." A
worn parchment proves the existence, in 1698, of " Par-
sonage Croft;" another of "Parsonage Pool;" and an
order of the Court Leet, 1594, required the tenants to "go
The Dene Gate of Yore. 207
along the hedge-side, keeping the footway towards the
Parsonage style, for their fetching of water from the river."
In 1765, an advertisement in the Mercury mentions " the
sign of the Grey Horse in or near Parsonage Brow." St
Mary's Church covers the ground once known as the
Parsonage Green.
The interest of this description of the Parsonage lands
will be much enhanced by a reference to Buck's Prospect,
a faithful portraiture of the locality in the year 1728. It
illustrates the entire length of the " Dene Gate of Yore," as
viewed from the river, — conveying more satisfying infor-
mation at a glance than the pen can furnish in a chapter.
The large gardens (Mr Quincey's, Mr Tipping's, Mr
Sedgwick's, and others), to which we have separately
alluded, are here seen in pleasant rows. The doubting
reader who may have fancied our orchards were mythical,
our stiles and summer-houses mere day-dreams, will find
such misgivings agreeably removed. The bountiful trees
are depicted in full bearing. No wonder we love them.
Green-leaved, blossom-scented, or russet-hued, we have
ever prized them — the more so when made vocal with
singing-birds. There is more attraction in trees than
usually meets the eye : not unfrequently they aid in
moving the heart. In one of these trees — flourishing
within a garden near the Old Church — a winsome maiden
of fifteen summers, named Silence Wagstafif, was once
gathering fruit. As the truthful story goes, it was a scene
of cherries all round — cherry lips, cherry cheeks, cherry
fruitage. Let Herrick revive the glowing picture : —
" Cherry ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry.
Full and fair ones — come and buy.
2o8 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
If so be you ask me where
They do grow ? — I answer, There,
Where my JuHa's hps do smile —
There's the land, or cherry-isle ;
Whose plantations fully show
All the year where cherries grow."
While thus pleasingly engaged, Silence chanced to be
observed by a young gentleman of Cheshire, Mr John
Leigh, of the family of Leigh of West Hall, and nothing
less than marriage at the earliest opportunity would satisfy
his love at first sight. And married they were. After a
few years of wedded bliss, the orange blossoms were suc-
ceeded by the widow's weeds. In the absence of their
wedding register, we here substitute the tombstone inscrip-
tion — less a few figures worn away — as it appeared in the
north aisle of the chancel of the Cathedral : —
"John Leigh, died Decern: 17, 1738,
aged
Peter, his son, died April 10, 1753,
aged 20."
"Saynte Mary Gayte" — thus spelled in 1552 — led, as
the Rev. John Whitaker conjectured, to a certain, or rather
uncertain, wooden church, which once flourished, as he
further surmised, on the site of the present Exchange
Street. Much rather would we, in this instance, be a
confiding Stephen than a sceptical Thomas of Didymus ;
but in the absence of proof our doubts may be excused,
especially as we hope to justify them by some recent
discoveries, reserved for our final chapter. The one strong
point in favour of Mr Whitaker's conclusion — and probably
his inducement thereto— is the ancient nomenclature of
St Mary's Gate, but all corroborative evidence is lacking.
The Dene Gate of Yore. 209
Often have we heard of human bones being dug up here-
about, but never could trace them to an authentic source.
Even if such exhumations really occurred, they would
not, unsupported, prove the pre-existence of a churchyard.
Human bones have been revealed in various parts of the
city. At the New Cross, in April 1846, two coffins were
laid bare, and their contents examined ; these were the
remains of suicides, formerly buried at the cross roads. A
bootcloser, named Smith, who had hastened his end in
the frenzy or despondency of love, was one of the
castaways; another was a young woman-servant, who
poisoned herself in September 1808. In April 1753, an
ostler at the Swan and Saracen's Head, Market Stead
Lane, was found hanging in the stable. At the inquest,
the jury returned a verdict of "self-murder;" and the
body was ordered to be " drawn upon a sledge, and buried
at four lane-ends, with all his clothes on, and to have a
stake driven through his body; which was executed on
Tuesday forenoon, in the presence of a numerous con-
course of spectators." So we read in the newspaper of
the period. Of others we have no published account,
saving the latest, said to be a soldier, who committed
suicide in 1821. While pursuing our researches, we glean
that on one particular Thursday morning in July 1798,
the workmen employed in digging the foundation of some
outhousing at Mr Halliwell's (now Halliwell Lane), near
Cheetham Hill village, discovered a human skeleton
about a yard under ground. Twelve years previously, a
servant woman in the neighbourhood was suddenly missed,
and never afterwards seen ; so there was sufficient reason
to suppose she fell a victim to a secret murderer, who as
2 lo Memorials, of Manchester Streets.
secretly buried her, and that these were her poor remains.
More recently similar remains were found at the lower
end of Miller Street j and in September 1869 a skull and
several large bones were seen during an excavation at the
corner of Marsden Street and Brown Street : in neither
instance did any traces of coffins or furniture appear,
nor could any satisfying explanation be obtained, though
much interest was awakened at the time. At Mayfield,
Moss Side, was interred a victim of the plague, the grave-
stone, bearing the following inscription, being visible until
lately : — " Here lyeth the body of Margery Beswicke, wife
of Hugh Beswicke of Hulme, who departed this life the
29th of September 1645." Two or three entries in the
parish registers denote that the plague-stricken inhabitants
were sometimes buried at the cabins in Collyhurst; while
others are supposed to have been interred near George
Street, Hulme, as human remains were there dug up in
the summer of last year (1872).
We next pass Shepherd's Court, Deansgate, its antiquity
being indicated by a brief entry in the burial register : —
"1612, Jany. 4, Cislie, widdowe to Richard Travis, dyed
at Thomas Andrewes in Shepp-des Court." An incor-
porated fragment, — ^just a corner post of a half-timbered
building resting upon its original ashlar foundation, — may
still be seen. Of the neighbouring court — Sedgwick's — it
may be noted that the late Mr James Everett, author of
the " Panorama of Manchester," and other works, resided
here ; but as we are not prepared to enter at large into
the literary or general merits of this well-known Wesleyan
preacher, a passing mention must suffice. Some day we
may be enabled to pay him a more satisfactory visit at
The Dene Gate of Yore. 2 1 1
his bookshop in Market Street, where his " Panorama "
was published. In November 183 1 James Montgomery,
the Sheffield poet, was the guest of Mr Everett, in
Sedgwick's Court. On looking from the window of the
house, situated on the rock overhanging the Irwell, the
poet said, " Mr Everett, you do not dwell in a Parnassus
here ; and if this be your Castalia which flows below, it
is certainly both a turbid and a turbulent stream just
now." The buildings forming this court were erected
about 1690 for Mr James Johnson, and purchased in
1707 by Mr Roger Sedgwick, one of the feoffees of the
Blue-Coat School. Mr Sedgwick's garden is marked on
the large Prospect published between the years 1729-34.
A few doors lower, on the same side of Deansgate,
stood the printing-office of Messrs Sowler & Russell,
whose business had previously been carried on at Hunt's
Bank. In Deansgate the originator of the Manchester
Coiirier newspaper was born. A detailed account of the
Sowler family, written by Mr Crossley, will be found in
the' second volume of the "Admission Register of the
Manchester School." To that biographical sketch may
now be added the inscriptions cut upon an altar-tomb
in Bowdon churchyard, and placed within view of the
wide-spreading yew-tree — the sylvan patriarch — so long
forming an attractive feature of the scene : —
" Sacred to the memory of Thomas Sowler,
of Manchester. Born 2d July 1789; died,
at Bowdon, i8th November 1857. Also in
loving remembrance of John, youngest son of
Thomas Sowler, of Bowdon, who died June
IS, 1 87 1, aged SI years.
" Thou, O Lord, hast done as it pleased Thee."
212 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
"Also of Florence Emily, grandchild of
Thomas Sowler, and infant daughter of
Thomas and Emily Sowler. Born March
17, 1871 ; died March 3, 1872."
" Sacred to the memory of Mary Helen,
daughter of Thomas Sowler, of Bowdon.
Born 7th August 1822; died, in London,
6th June 1855."
" Also of Harriet, wife of the Rev. Bevis
Green, youngest daughter of Thomas Sowler.
Born September 17, 1824; died, at Brom-
yard, February, 27, i860. Also -of Charles
Edward, infant son of John and Ellen Sowler.
Born 17th August, died 27th September,
1861."
By way of illustrative contrast to this chapter on the
Dene Gate of Yore, the idea had been entertained of re-
producing and here inserting a panoramic view — drawn
about 1830 — of a portion of modern Deansgate, enlivened
on each hand by familiar names, signboards, and shops
(inclusive of the tiny " Noah's Ark " once quaintly gracing
the corner of St Mary's Gate). As this panorama, though
desirable in the main, presented some difficulties, it was
ultimately withdrawn. We were loth to disturb an
arrangement giving life and character to the scene ; yet no
choice remained, without encroaching on the commercial
mediums. Advertisements floated before our vision in
all directions, whilst the Critic's catalogue of puffs, "direct,
preliminary, collateral, collusive, and oblique," as rattled
forth by Charles Mathews upon the stage, was fresh in
the recollection of the reader. To render a book generally
informing, and at the same time generally pleasing, is a
desirable union not always attainable.
CHAPTER XVII.
A RETROSPECT OF DEANSGATE.
' ' No grown-up person who has resided in Manchester even twenty years
is unacquainted with the mighty changes that have passed over its suburbs
during that period ; while those who have lived here thirty, forty, and fifty
years tell us of circumstances and conditions almost incredible. ... I allude
to these changes and contrasts in order to invite attention to the desirable-
ness of their history being written before the actors in them and the witnesses
shall be all gone."
Leo Hartley Grindon.
■XT OTWITH STANDING the serious tendencies of
■*■ ^ looking backward, as exemplified in the sad fate
of Lot's wife — with the pillar of salt in full view, we will
venture to cast a backward glance along the metamor-
phosed thoroughfare we have sedately traversed, from the
Medlock at Knot Mill to the Irwell at the Old Bridge.
Such reviewing will enable the writer to supply a defi-
ciency here, or mark a correction there, to the mutual
advantage of himself and his readers,
Mr Jesse Lee, a worthy local writer and genealogist,
who is not remembered in proportion to his merits, re-
sided some time in Crown Street, Great Bridgewater
Street, as a cellector of tonnage, afterwards removing to
Hulme, where he died, at the age of fifty-three, on the
17th February 1844. The remarks appended to his
P
214 ^ Memorials of Manchester Streets.
" History of the House of Stanley " show that he was a
conscientious editor : —
"Having brought down to the present day the genealogical
account of the House of Stanley, it only remains for the editor to
make his valedictory remarks. Ninety-nine years have now elapsed
since Mr Seacombe'^ history was printed, which was brought down
to the year 1735 only; and of the various reprints of his work that
have been published, no additions have been made until the pre-
sent edition, which will be found considerable. The ' Genealogia,' as
beforetime given, for want of proper arrangement, was almost unin-
telligible, even to those well skilled in such matters ; consequently
great liberty has been taken with it, and another prefixed more in
accordance with the descent of the noble family, and somewhat
more novel; whilst the various collateral branches have not been
overlooked. It is therefore hoped that any errors of names or dates,
— for different authorities vary much in them, — may be favourably
noticed.
" HuLME, Manchester, August 1840. J- LEE.'
For the same publisher Mr Lee prepared an elaborate
edition of the works of John Collier, with an extended
glossary, but his labour was entirely wasted, the enterprise
failing in consequence of the publisher's bankruptcy. Mr
Lee, as the Recoi'der informs us, was " a native of Roch-
dale, but settled at Manchester in early life," In the
unfortunate Tim Bobbin speculation the editor was not
the only sufferer, as Mr James Stephenson, the artist,
found to his cost. Drawings, together with engraved
plates and blocks, completed or in progress, to the value
of one hundred pounds, were left useless upon his hands.
Misfortune has a trick of clinging to some people in a
pertinacious manner. In the early part of the current
year (1873), Mr Stephenson was a competitor for the
honours of the Royal Academy, when the blindfolded
A Retrospect of Deansgate. 2 1 5
goddess failed to see his deserts, though his sterhng
qualities had long been patent. Seldom, we fancy, will
the presiding deity smile on a worthier Associate, or on
a better engraver, than the veteran in question.
In the will of Mr Robert Gregson, dated 1795, mention
is made of his lands in Gregson Street, Watson Street, and
elsewhere. Thirteen years previously Mr Gregson had pur-
chased a portion of these lands from Mr Roger Aytoun
and others.
In St John Street resided during two decades or more
the author of " Sir Percy Legh, a Legend of Lyme, and
other Ballads," a dainty little volume, issued at Manches-
ter in 1862. The brief preface informs us that "they were
composed during visits to Lyme, as the writer's contri-
bution to the evening's entertainments at that delightful
mansion. The traditions on which they are founded were
related by the late Mr Legh, and amplified by his accom-
plished lady. The estate of Lyme was the reward of the
valour of an ancestor of the present possessor on the field
of Cressy. The subsequent achievements of the heroes of
the House of Legh at Agincourt and elsewhere are matters
of history." After the publication of " Sir Percy Legh,"
the writer thereof amused his leisure by versifying other
traditions ; making, when requisite, the oral accounts more
consistent and complete. Apparently his aim was to pre-
serve in verse the Palatine legends not included by Mr
Roby in his prose narrations ; and certainly in one of his
new stories, entitled "Bramhall Hall," the romantic ele-
ment is not lacking. A mail-clad warrior, after special
service in the wars, returns to claim, or rather to win, his
affianced though unseen bride, a fair daughter of Bram-
2 1 6 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
hall. Succeeding in his suit, the wedding is nevertheless
prevented by the death of the adventurous knight, who is
slain in the forest by a band of marauders on his refusal
to pay tribute to their leader, a Cheshire Robin Hood.
In another of the ballads, " Marple Hall," a young cava-
lier, bearing despatches, seeks and finds shelter for the
night at the home of the Bradshaws, and in the morning
he is drowned, through the treachery of his guide, while
crossing the ford. Clearly it is not well — barely safe —
to be a hero. To find the dainty Captain Plumes thus
made the merest sport of fortune, losing their peerless
brides as soon as won, and compelled to die at the critical
time when life is most enchanting, all this cross purpose is
sufficient to make an everyday man thankful for his com-
monplace existence. Possibly this is not the moral the
author intended to be drawn ; and if so, he will try to
excuse our somewhat wilful departure from his teaching.
In each instance, at Bramhall as at Marple, a ghost wan-
dered — mayhap still wanders — in search of retributive jus-
tice ; but those ghostly visitants we prefer to leave unmo-
lested in their " ancient solitary reign." Thirty years ago
this gentleman was an occasional contributor to a literary
magazine published in our city. Quite recently the re-
membrance of those days, youthful and pleasant, induced
a desire on his part to give a friendly call to some of his
fellow-contributors. On casting up their names, he was
startled to find that he must visit nearly all in their
narrow homes. From the favourite editor to the bard in
the poet's corner, scarcely an odd one remained upon
earth. Although not of a tearful nature, nor morbid in his
anticipations, he could not help feeling, in an earthquake
A Retrospect of Deansgate. 217
like this, the ground tremble beneath his feet. The
inscription chiseled upon a family gravestone, now in-
visible, but still lying beneath the Derby Chapel, in the
Cathedral, indicates the name and kindred of the author
of " Sir Percy Legh." The record it bears may be thus
deciphered : —
" Here resteth the remains of John Leigh,
late of Manch'', who departed this life July
1797, aged 61."
Turning from his grave, we catch a glimpse of his youth
in the first volume of the "Admission Register of the
Grammar School : " — " 1744, Nov. 22. — John, son of John
Leigh of Manchester, tradesman. Of the family of Leigh
of West Hall, Cheshire. His grandfather was Peter Leigh,
M.A., rector of Whitchurch, Salop, rector of Lymme, and
vicar of Great Budworth, Cheshire."
The Mercury, in 1776, announces the sale of "two
closes of land, belonging to Samuel Clowes, Esq., called
'Purgatory' and the 'Lion's Den,' in Manchester, opposite
and near to a certain street called the Quay Street."
When treating of Cumberland Street, we ought to have
named Mr Moses Hughes as one of its residents. This
musician was a member of the Theatre Royal orchestra
nearly half a century, his favourite instrument being the
oboe, on which he was considered unrivalled in Britain.
On the evening preceding his decease, during the perfor-
mance of Miss Kelly, he occupied his usual post, when he
suddenly fainted, and was carried to his home, where he
died, on the 26th of November 1836, aged seventy-one.
Mr Hughes, who was born near Wigan, served an appren-
2i8 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
ticeship in Liverpool. He was much esteemed for his
moral worth, as well as for his musical talents.
Except by the aid of pictured views or written de-
scriptions, the younger part of our population can know
nothing of primitive Deansgate, the main artery of the
once wooded, castellated little town. Only our elders, with
beards and sidelocks turned grey, have the privilege of
recalling to memory the latest lingerers of its picturesque
homes and hostelries. But whosoever shall journey forth
to Chester, and wander along its singular rows, may still
feast his eyes and humour his fancy with similar fantastic
dwellings. The influence of those rows upon ourselves
was peculiar. As we crossed the noble bridge that spans
the Dee, and perambulated the principal street divid-
ing the city, the friendly eaves and attics projected over
the pathways, as if desirous of embracing ; and we were
forcibly reminded of a merry Scottish lilt — "We're a'
noddin' at our house at hame."
While thus ruminating with the eaves, oriel windows,
and gables of the two palatine cities, or with their memories,
our attention has been drawn to a gentle controversy
touching a kindred structure of some historic interest.
In certain letters recently printed, endeavours have
been made to fix the locality of the Eagle and Child
Tavern, where Taylor, the Water-Poet, lodged (as his
homely rhymes inform us) during his stay in Manchester,
the hostess being Mistress Saracole, with John Pinner for
his principal boon companion. With all their modern
knowledge, the astute correspondents were hunting for a
fact that was patent to every Mancestrian two centuries
ago. Time is the veriest of misers, continually hiding his
A Retrospect of Deansgate. 219
treasures. So when we pine for " a missing link " of any
description, we have only to seek, and we shall assuredly
find ; but we must delve deeply into the sand which the
great Traveller sheds from his hour-glassi Our first
witnesses (one baptism and five burials) are subpoenaed
from the Collegiate registers, and will depose to the
names of John Taylor's friends :—
" 1600, Male 3. — Barbary, wief to John Beamond, alias Pynner."
" 1603, Oct. 23. — Raphe, sonne of John Sorrocolde, vintner.
Baptised."
" 1 62 1, Maye 17. — John Sorracold, of Manchester, vintner.''
" 1623, Aug. 2. — Margery, widowe of John Beamond, alias
Pynner."
" 1623, Sep. 8.— Edward Beamond, alias Pynner."
" 1628, Aprill 29. — Robarte Soracould, of Manchester, inn-
keeper."
Thus far of the persons named by the Water-Poet. Next
let us search for the house and its sign. In the primitive
years when Manchester possessed no newspaper of her own,
she advertised her wants and published her more important
occurrences in a metropolitan print, the London Gazette.
In those time-obscured columns, so little known to pro-
vincial searchers, a friend of ours has enj'oyed divers clan-
destine peeps, ever and anon adding another "wrinkle"
to his previous furrows. This sage mentor keeps a good-
natured guard over our antiquarian footsteps, leading us
back to the correct historic line when we chance to di-
verge, however slightly. The subjoined extracts from the
Gazette we have verified : —
171 1, June 16. — One John Oldham, a bankrupt, is required to
surrender himself " at the Eagle and Child Coffee-house, in Man-
chester aforesaid."
2 20 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
1717, December 17. — The assignees of John Chadwick an-
nounce a meeting "at the house of Mr Hawkeswell, being the
Eagle and Child Coffee-house, in Manchester, in the said county of
Lancaster."
1725, December 4. — Joseph Barnes, woollen dyer, is required to
surrender himself ""at the house of Samuel Heathcott, innkeeper,
being the Eagle and Child Coffee-house, in Manchester aforesaid."
1734, November 12. — "Commissioners intend to meet at the
Eagle and Child Coffee-house in Manchester, commonly called the
Old Coffee-house."
The earliest mention we can find is dated 23d August
1708, when the Commissioners in Bankruptcy announced
their intention to meet " at the Eagle and Child Coffee-
house in Manchester." Afterward, as will be observed, the
sign was frequently named in legal advertisements.
The range of buildings of which the Old Coffee-house
formed a part was sketched by Thomas Barritt. Under-
neath the Coffee-house the amateur artist has pictured the
shop of Mr Newton, bookseller. In 1756 Mr Newton held
an auction of books in the public room above his place of
business. The site is further demonstrated by an aged
resident, whose reminiscences of the Market Place in 1772
are recorded in the second volume of " Collectanea ; " he
observes — " Where Exchange Street is now was Newton's,
the bookseller, where the gentlemen used to go to know
what the bells were ringing for. Newton's was under the
Old Coffee-house." Collectively, this evidence points with
reasonable distinctness to the precise rood of ground on
which John Taylor (a sturdy pilgrim, proud of his pedes-
trian achievements) lodged while sojourning here. That
the house was located in a Manchester street, and not
at the suburban Temple, will now remain undisputed — as
may be assumed — until the lapse of another century or
A Retrospect of Deansgate. 221
two, when the fact may be again forgotten — to be once
more retrieved.
The Water-Poet's description of his entertainment will
be novel to the majority of our readers. We quote from
the "Journal of Nicholas Assheton," edited by the Rev.
Canon Raines : —
" I must tell
How men of Manchester did use me well ;
Their loves they on the tenterhooks did rack ;
Rost, boiled, baked too, too much, white, claret, sa'cke ;
Nothing they thought too heavy or too hot, —
Canne followed canne, and pot succeeded pot ;
That what they could do, all they thought too little.
Striving in love the traveller to whittle.
We went into the house of one John Pinners
(A man that lives among a crew of sinners).
And there eight several sorts of ale we had,
All able to make one stark drunk or mad ;
But I with courage bravely flinched not.
And gave the town leave to discharge the shot.
We had at one time set upon the table
Good ale of hisope, 'twas no vEsop's fable ;
Then had we ale of sage, and ale of malt.
And ale of wormwood, that could make one halt ;
With ale of rosemary and betony.
And two ales more, or else I needs must lye.
But, to conclude this drinking alye tale,
We had a sort of ale called scurvy ale.
Thus all those men at their own charge and cost
Did strive whose love should be expressed most ; .
And, further, to declare their boundless loves.
They saw I wanted, and they gave me gloves.
In deed and very deed their loves were such.
That in their praise I cannot write too much ;
They merit more than I have here compiled.
I lodged at the Eagle and the Child,
Whereat my hostess (a good ancient woman)
Did entertain me with respect not common.
2 2 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
So Mistress Saracole, hostess kind,
And Manchester with thanks I left behind."
Here the Water-Poet and his " Pennyless Pilgrimage"
may be securely left to the good care of their newest
friend and literary entertainer, the Sp^enser Society of this
city.
Whilst these chapters have been passing through the
serial or chrysalis stage, much has been said and written,
thoughtfully, banteringly, and otherwise, by sundry citizens
concerning the name of Deansgate. If we venture to
add a few remarks upon street nomenclature in general,
perhaps from the crowd of suggestions some useful
hint may be gleaned, as it is out of the abundance of
chaff that the grain cometh. It is usually considered
desirable that the history of a town should be indicated
and preserved, so far as practicable, in the nomenclature
of its streets, bridges, and other public erections. The
thoroughfares or byways outlined upon our primitive
maps or described in our earliest chronicles are landmarks
to the historical student, and their names should descend
as heirlooms through one generation of inhabitants to
another. Their preservation may be advocated upon the
same principle, or rather from the same feeling, that moved
the American songster to protect his tree against the
woodman's stroke, or that caused our own English Jack
to defend his bean-stalk. From the highways to the
notables who have paced them, leaving honourable foot-
prints behind, is an easy, natural step ; and it is pleasing to
find how much has been effected in the direction of local
history. The nobility whose seats encircle the city, the
A Retrospect of Deansgate. 223
landed gentry of its suburbs, the worthiest of its citizens,
in whatsoever direction their worthiness may lie, — ^these
have been largely recognised upon the public signboards
and institutions, systematic extension being alone re-
quired. As we have John Dalton Street to represent its
science, might not Henry Liverseege be allowed to typify
its art? And as Byrom Street may be regarded as a
memorial of its poetic literature, would De Quincey be an
vmsuitable reminder of its excellence in prose? When
Shakespeare's Juliet plaintively inquired, "What's in a
name?" she was thinking (apart from Romeo) of roses
with universal perfume — not of provincial streets with
local significations.
CHAPTER XVIII.
SMITHY DOOR BANK.
" We have no sympathy with those torpid beings who can walk from
■Billingsgate to Carlingford, and cry ' All is barren.' Many are the associa-
tions which a dissertation suggests ; but chiefly and briefly will we touch upon
reminiscences historic, poetic, and domestic. Alas for the days that are no
more ! " .
William Gaspey.
ARRIVING at length at the bottom of Deansgate, we
■^^- reach the birthplace of John Easby, or, more cor-
rectly writing, we reach the uncovered ground — Smithy
Door Bank — where that picturesque (and often described)
dwelling used to stand. John Easby's name is almost
unknown to the present generation, though in his day
familiar enough, especially to the sporting fraternity, or
in theatrical circles, where he had many friends. A cheery,
free-and-easy writer, he could tilt his pen in any direction
he chose. A report for the Era, a squib for Bob Logic's
Budget, a sketch of the political leaders of his day, or a
description of the country towns he visited, with scenes
by the wayside, flowed from his pen with equal freedom.
When the bird happened to be in full feather, the grate-
ful song was not lacking : the chaste article, the edifying
lecture, even the lay sermon, was written or delivered.
The exact date of Mr Easby's death is unknown to us.
Smithy Door Bank. 225
He appears described as a reporter in the Directory for
1850, and in the succeeding issue as a tobacconist and
beer retailer, carrying on business in Lower Mosley Street
— a place of refreshment soon afterwards conducted by
John Bolton Rogerson. As John Easby's name disappears
from the Directories in 1855, it is probable he died prior
to that period. For his epitaph we have made no inquiry,
thinking the quest would prove as bootless as seeking
some particular leaf that falls in the forest. An anony-
mous twopenny pamphlet, now seldom seen, will favourably
represent its author : — " Random Scenes from the Life of a
Manchester Green-Coated Schoolboy; his trials on the
Stage, the Press, the Platform, and the Pulpit. Written
from memory, by himself. Manchester, published by Abel
Heywood, 58 Oldham Street, 1851." After quoting this
lengthy title-page, we must give only a moiety of the
dedication to his schoolfellows : — " In whatever station,
under circumstances however painful, I fervently hope
you have not dishonoured our cloth — the green coat, green
vest, green stockings, leather breeches, and napless black
hat. Bless you, young friends of my youth." John
Easby's address at the date in question, — 28 Church
Street, Salford, — is appended. As the brochure before us
(green-coated, like its writer) is all that we can find to
represent his literary life, the only spar left floating when
the vessel went down, we will give a liberal specimen,^ — ■
as liberal as our present space and a due respect for
the publisher's copyright will permit : —
" Many Manchester people will remember a huge ancient building
at the bottom of old Smithy Door, which also overhung the end of
Deansgate, as if the drooping pile was mourning over its fallen great-
Q
226 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
ness, its rich feudal owner having long since passed away, and
families of lowly lineage become the occupants of the architecture
of olden times.* In that relic of antiquity I was cradled, to undergo
the strange vicissitudes of the world, about the year 1811. When
I neared the seventh year of existence, my affectionate mother be-
came a widow. Without parish aid or eleemosynary assistance, she
creditably brought up four children by the exercise of matchless
industry and a rigid adherence to domestic economy. At eight
years of age I became a green-coated schoolboy, and remained one
during three years. The education proved scant indeed. Reading
was the greatest extent taught free, writing being an extra, demand-
ing pecuniary remuneration to assist the teacher in augmenting his
slight income. No history, no arithmetic, no grammar j and, from
that day to this, no instructor has taught me the commonest rudi-
ments of those powerful adjuncts to worldly advancement. I picked
up as I wandered through life, gathered what came in my path,
stored as prizes, stray bits which the scholar would pass unnoticed,
as he required no such trifles. At the age of eleven I entered the,
employment of a paper dealer, in whose service I stayed six or
seven years, and from whom, unfortunately, I imbibed a strong taste
for the stage, to the total obliteration of trade ideas. From the date
I left his honourable employ to the present period, commerce and I
have not practically met. A trade, however, was suggested for me,
and that of a printer selected as my future occupation. But a
flame burned within me which had more powerful incentives than a
trade. A stage infatuation consumed my every thought. Fond
imagination already pictured me a theatrical star of considerable
celebrity. Whilst under the influence of this delirium, ill-fated
Edmund Kean visited Manchester : I saw him, and the die was
* A contributor to The Phcenix, a short-lived Manchester magazine, has
referred to the said comer in a similar strain: — " Who has gazed on the old
gloomy-looking building at the lower end of Deansgate, entering into Cateaton
Street, without feelings of antiquarian awe? Three centuries have passed
away, and left that structure stiU [1828] standing, as a mouldering memento of
a bygone age. Since its erection it has frequently been repaired and clumsily
patched ; but still the present edifice in other respects is the same which, in
the early part of the sixteenth century, was the dwelling of the renowned dis.
ciple of Esculapius, Dr Simeon Ford. That identical house also, when in its
pristine grandeur, has often witnessed the joviahties of the redoubtable Sir
George de CoUyar, the [ninth] Warden of Manchester."
Smithy Door Bank. 227
cast — the sock and buskin were my fevered aspirations ; I frequented
a theatrical house, became a personal friend of stage-heroes, and
revelled in imaginary greatness. Amongst others who paid court
to the expounders of the dramatists were clerks, petty cash-keepers,
and young warehousemen. Midnight orgies became numerous ; no
' trump ' deserting ' the feast of reason (.?) and the flow of soul,' until
the shrill cock heralded in the morning. I was often puzzled to
learn how young men — very young — could grace the counting-house
without the traces of late hours leading to detection. At length an
old stager proposed an amateur performance, and the announcement
was received with fervid enthusiasm. A play was selected, parts
cast, dresses bought, place engaged, night fixed, and dull Cocker
abandoned for congenial Shakespeare. I did not form one of the
embryo actors ; the part I soared to represent being given to, or
rather paid for, by another, as each part, according to dramatic
importance, had to pay tribute to the old stager for his professional
superintendence. My ' vaulting ambition ' could not descend to any
other part, and I became one of the privileged to witness the repre-
sentation behind the scenes. The long-wished-for night arrived,
and the housewas crowded vidth indulgent friends of each aspirant,
so failure was out of the pale of possibility. The applause equalled
that elicited by Edmund Kean on another stage. Bitter night that
for the cheering, imprudent friends ; but bitterer, far bitterer, for the
semi-actors. Business hours were afterwards intruded upon to have
day drains with the actors. More amateur performances ensued ;
expensive nightly revels were continued, and dozens of box-tickets
taken from professionals to sustain ' the cause.' The riot of guilty
indulgence soon had an end. Promising young men were dis-
charged in disgrace from honourable situations of trust ; their
employers forbearing to prosecute through a kindly feeling towards
their relatives. Some fled the town in alarm, to join strolling com-
panies of Thespians under an alias, to lead a weary life of vaga-
bondising, in perpetual want or woe ; others were placed in the
felon's dock, to plead to indictments of embezzlement ; and many
brought down blanched cheeks and hoary heads with sadness to
the tomb. I stood amazed at the scene of reality passing painfully
before me. Yet a hopeful spirit cheered me on ; but truth constrains
me to confess that amateur theatrical representations are viciously
bad in a mercantile community. They unsettle the mind from
2 23 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
legitimate pursuits, and distract it with golden visions. Still,
unaccountable infatuation'! I yearned to fret my hour as a profes-
sional, and yielded to my thirstful longings. I became a ' regular,'
but whether the essay proved a hit or a miss I presume not to
state. I ran the gauntlet in a country theatre, cheeringly enough on
the stage, but with continued short commons off it; and hunger
is a sharp thorn, keener than the sharpest practice of the veriest
law-shark who ever sued poverty." '
A little further research, and some friendly corre-
spondence, will now enable us to add a few particulars
touching Mr John Easby. The grave of this once
widely-known writer for the press is situated near the
centre of Ardwick Green Cemetery, beneath the branches
of an aged elm-tree. Upon a flat stone the ensuing
inscription is engraven : —
"In memory of John Easby, of Manchester,
who died i8th November 1852, aged 40 years.
Charles Hindley, son of the above, who died
Sep' 13th, 1865, aged 26 years."
Then follows the record of an infant's demise. Mr
Easby's son was apparently named after the first Mem-
ber of Parliament for Ashton-under-Lyne. Another son,
the only survivor of Mr Easby's children, bears the name
of Richard Cobden, and has spent some portion of his life
in New Zealand, to which salubrious island he purposes
one day to return. John Easby died, after a lingering
illness, at his house in Lower Mosley Street, known as
"Number Six." At the time of his decease, and during
many previous years, he was the Manchester Correspon-
dent of the London Era. "An account of his funeral
(states one who was present at the closing scene) will be
found in the Era of the time, giving a list of the public
Smithy Door Bank. 229
men who followed his remains to their last resting-place ;
and however, in the ' sheer force of adverse circumstances,
he tilted his pen/ his death brings to my mind's eye one
of the most perfect and peaceful assurances of a Chris-
tian's hope of a heavenly home."
The half-forgotten Charity with which John Easby was
associated is still known to a few citizens as Ann Hinde's.
The livery worn by the scholars was, as we remember,
of a yellowish green ; but the juvenile wearers gradually
disappeared from our streets many years ago ; and as the
verdant clothing passed quietly from sight, it seemed like-
wise to vanish from the public memory. The nature of
Mrs Hinde's charitable bequest can be gathered from
the inscription on her neat marble monument within the
Cathedral : —
" Sacred to the memory of Mrs Ann Hinde,
widow of the Rev. John Hinde, formerly-
Fellow of this Church. She lived a pattern
of exemplary piety, and the present trustees
have erected this monument as a grateful
remembrance of her distinguished charity to
the poor of Manchester and Stretford by the
establishment of the Green Gown School, for
the clothing and educating of 24 poor children,
which, by good management and a concur-
rence of fortunate circumstances, are, in the
year 1788, increased to the number of 50.
She died in the year 1724, aged 70."
Notwithstanding this gratifying statement, which pro-
mised a long-lived friendly rival to good Humphrey's
Foundation, the promise has not been realised to the full
extent. The Manchester moiety of Mrs Hinde's scholars,
230 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
having no building of their own, were accommodated in
the school belonging to St Mary's Church, Parsonage,
where they prospered to the early years of the present
century, and lingered to a much later period. One cause
of their decadence in Manchester may be traced, we
think, to the precarious tenure of the lodger franchise.
Had the generous lady's gift been supplemented by a
kindred bequest, and the scholars located in an historic
hall of their own — say Hulme, or Ordsall, or Garratt —
their Foundation might be flourishing to-day. The Green
boy, in his interesting retreat, might be as tangible as
the Blue boy. At Stretford, we believe, a vestige of the
Charity is still remaining (by amalgamation with the
National School), less livery being worn, and of a darker
hue than formerly.
An inscription on the south'side of St Mary's Church-
yard, Parsonage, forms an interesting link in the history
of the Green-Gowns : —
" Martha, wife of Richard Hartley, died
March the 3rd, 1 78 1, aged 70 : first School-
mistress of St Mary's Charity. Richard
Hartley, died November 19, 1786, aged 81
years : first Schoolmaster of St Mary's
Charity."
This Charity, while gradually passing from public observa-
tion in Manchester, has been maintained with more vigour
at Stretford, which place has become its stronghold. Its
watchful guardian, or "village Hampden," during many
years, was the late Rev. Joseph Clarke, the curate in
charge (and afterwards rector), who thus observes in his
Smithy Door Bank. 231
diary: — "May 12, 1847. — Till this year the boys have
always worn green swallow-tailed coats and leathern
breeches. To say nothing of the absurdity of thus
dressing boys of eight to twelve years of age, the incon-
venience to the little fellows was great, especially in wet
weather, inasmuch as they could not at times sit down
or bend."
In Mr Clarke's "Sickbed Address to his JBeloved
Parishioners," printed in October 1859, shortly before
the pastor's decease, he expressed an earnest desire
that a memorial window should be placed in Stretford
Church in grateful remembrance of Mrs Hinde; "to
whom, during the last hundred years, most of the poor
inhabitants [of the village] have been indebted for all
the education they ever received." This graceful tribute
has not yet been paid ; the debt of gratitude, so long
overdue, is still owing by the public. Let us hope the
worthy parishioners, or others, may yet see their way clear
in this direction, if there be a window to spare suitable for
the purpose. And if through such memorial window —
" The slanting rays of Sabbath light
Shine o'er the donors' pews,"- — ■
could the donors receive a sweeter return for their muni-
ficence? We glean from the Parliamentary report on
charities that " on Wednesday preceding Ascension Day,
a meeting of Mrs Hinde's trustees is held at Stretford, the
accounts audited, the children examined, and vacancies
filled up. All the children attend \i.e., the Manchester
children are brought to Stretford], and are furnished with
two meals. A sermon is preached in Stretford Church."
232 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
^2780
I3I6
15
10
^4097
S
;£6l
61
9
9
I
2
;£l22
18
3
;^i99
18
4
In 1869 the value of the school property was officially
stated to be : —
Consols,
New do.,
Total dividends —
Manchester,
Stratford,
Total former income.
This account of the Green-Coat School, or rather scho-
lars, may be suitably concluded with a few observations
by Mr David Kelly, late churchwarden of Stretford, who
has taken an interest in the' subject, and to whom we are
indebted for some useful facts. " The boys wore the ordi-
nary chimney-pot hat without nap. The hat worn by the
girls was something like a cardinal's hat, but not quite so
broad in the brim. It was of hard felt, and light green in
colour. The girls wore a large white tippet reaching to
the waist. [The costume, it will be understood, has been
materially modified since 1847.] -A-t the present time
there are thirty-five children educated in Manchester [at
St John's School, Gartside Street], twelve of whom — six
boys and six girls — are clothed. In Stretford thirty-one
are educated, of which number five boys and five girls are
clothed." At the coronation of George the Fourth, these
children (headed by their master and mistress) were con-
spicuous in the great procession, the spectators being highly
amused with their span-new verdure. The green bonnets
of the girls were relieved for the occasion with mazarine
blue ribbons.
Sniitky Door Bank. 233
In a marriage settlement, dated 1714, reference is made
to "all that burgage or tenement being near a certain
street called Smithy Door Bank, and all those two gardens
lying on the back of the said messuage, leading down to
the river Irwell." Afterwards the property in question
passed to Mr Robert Thyer, librarian of Chetham's College,
as the dower of Silence, his wife. This scholar is still
favourably remembered. 'Y.\\.t Mercury, at the date of his
demise, was highly eulogistic, proclaiming him an honour to
this town, where he was born and educated. Further par-
ticulars respecting him may be read in the " Admission
Register of the Manchester School," edited by the Rev.
Jeremiah Finch Smith. A short enigmatical poem of Mr
Thyer's might be here introduced as a sample of his rhym-
ing quality, but we must forbear, lest the current chapter
would be thought somewhat overburdened with extract
matter. A flat stone within the Cathedral contains the
last few words of his story : —
"Robert Thyer, died October 27, 1781,
aged 72. Silence, his wife, died May 4,
1753, aged 38."
The foot of Smithy Door Bank rested upon the Old
Bridge, and so terminated the line of Manchester streets
in this direction. Here also may terminate our disserta-
tion ; for the modern Victoi-ia is no more a Bridge of Sighs
whereon to ruminate, than are we a wayward Byron to
conjure forth a long array of interesting shadows. Albeit
a prison did once, sternly and truly, greet the passenger
on the one hand, no palace ever charmed him on the other,
as at Venice ; nor do graceful gondolas glide on the Irwell
beneath. The rowers hereabout are indeed songless ;
234 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
listen as we may, our ears catch not the melody of trouba-
dour, the nearest resemblance being the Cathedral chimes.
Yet it must be conceded that, half a century ago, we
narrowly escaped a succession of elegant vessels. A navi-
gable ship canal from the Irish Sea direct to this town
was projected, sundry witty squibs hailing the advent of
the grand idea. The press of Liverpool and Manchester
entered upon a harmless paper war, in which contest, if
not overpowered, we certainly were outnumbered, by the
Livers, In prose, they congratulated us on the quantity
of vessels lying at anchor at Kersal Moor Dry Dock, in
the port of Manchester, and bound for Utopia ; in verse,
they hoped the lords of the loom, while enjoying their own
champagne, would at least leave to Liverpool its port.
But humour apart, and free-ranging fancy put aside, some
considerable time must elapse, we opine, before our chief
civic dignitary will sail in a gilded barge, and ofJficially
marry the sea at Bootle Landmarks,
The prison to which we have referred, so long situated
upon and within Salford Bridge,* would have proved
a puzzle to Jack Sheppard, the daring scapegrace who
has left his name to other times, linked with one virtue
— ^but we forget the virtue in the crimes. Had he here
leaped through the wall, he would have alighted in the
river, and possibly be found drowned by Jonathan Wild
or some other tipstaff. To the inmates of that dungeon
the water was a greater terror than the confinement,
and with reason, A sudden rising of the Irwell during
* An interesting view of this bridge and prison is preserved in Buck's
Sottth-West Prospect, ante, page 207.
Smithy Door Bank, 235
the unguarded night would immerse or overwhelm them.
On one occasion at the least (see Aston's " Metrical
Records"), when the keeper tardily unlocked the door,
he discovered that the great Liberator had entered the
dungeon before him, setting the captive free. Changing
from prisoners to prayers, — from sinners to saints, — it
was at this spot the Royalists opened their siege and the
Puritans rushed from their pews to the conflict. Even
in the church the worshippers forgot the Peacemaker's in-
junction — "If thine enemy smite thee on one cheek, turn the
other," — seizing, in preference, any weapon that came first
to hand for the purpose of returning blow for blow. In
this dereliction of religious duty perchance our combative
forefathers may stand excused, so long as self-preserva-
tion remains the primal law of nature, and while numerals
(ever commencing with number one) form the chief study
of a mercantile community. In that melee an inquisitive
boy was shot while sitting upon a stump close to our
present standpoint. Much safer remaining here now.
That fated boy on the fatal stump reminds us of other
boys and other upright timbers. Our elders — but not
our juveniles — ^will remember the time when Manchester
was a town of stumps — one being affixed securely to each,
or nearly each, street corner. Never could we divine the
purpose of those wooden pillars, and ultimately assumed
that they were connected in some mysterious way with
the riddle of the Sphynx. But boys have a genius for
materialising the visions of men, and we found permanent
use and practical purpose for those perpendiculars. We
rarely passed them, singly or in troops, without overleap-
ing their highnesses, or attempting that gymnastic feat.
236 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
They constituted the best imaginable " Craddies." One
naorning we awoke (again in the domain of Byron) and
missed the stumps. They had not decayed gradually, in
the natural ordination of timber or of men. No fear of
latent dry-rot in the wet town of Manchester. So why
had they suddenly vanished, and where .■• Only one
solution presented itself to our unformed mind. Being
a compact body, doubtless they formed a union, and had
struck to remedy some real or imaginary grievance, —
probably for greater elevation and less leaping: just as
the workers of our own era strike for more wages and
fewer working hours. Nothing beats your two-edged sword
when rushing headlong into battle, but it possesses the
dangerous tendency of cutting both ways.
As the shadows of the olden time, accompanied by
those of our own youth, disappear from the foot of Smithy
Door Bank, a more recent scene arises.
Amongst the latest levellings for improvement pur-
poses in this city was the popular, tavern adjoining
the Victoria Bridge, and built upon the rugged rock,
slightly overhanging the Irwell. At once a vault, a
refreshment-room, a boathouse, and a singing gallery,
no wonder it attracted incessant crowds of the matter-of-
fact sons and daughters of John Bull, — a family so famous
for its love of eating and drinking and recreation. The
usual visitors to the Trafford Arms were " positive "
philosophers, though unconscious of the existence of
Comte, — admirers of " muscular " Christianity, and daily
practising its virtues, without the aid of the Rev. Charles
Kingsley or Mr Thomas Hughes. Albeit they were, as
Mr Charles Phillips wrote upon one of his title-pages,
Smithy Door Bank. 237
" All Low People There," it is curious to note how much,
in some important particulars, they resembled their betters.
When wearied by labour or ennui — (how they would
have laughed at that alien word and at the Frenchman
pronouncing it !) — they invariably sought the amusement
that most amused them ; and when, as on one painful
occasion, while eagerly pursuing their pleasures in this
saloon, they were suddenly confronted by Death, and
slain and piled by his mysterious hand, the mourning
was as deep in the cottage homes as it could have been
in the stateliest halls. The date of that disaster was
Friday, July 31, 1868. At a benefit concert — ("Don't
forget this benefit ! " was printed in the bills of the day)
— a false alarm of fire was raised, and a panic ensued, in
which twenty-three persons were fatally crushed in their
frantic efforts to escape from the hall, eleven others being
injured. The sufferers were chiefly boys and girls. The
street ballad-singer, — ^the laureate of the million, — warbled
his "Lamentation" in due course to crowds of sympathising
listeners, until, at length, the interest faded, and they turned
to mourn over the next great sorrow. This music-room
was best known to the multitude by its aliases, all ab-
breviated in the true Lancashire fashion. Who has not
heard of " Ben Lang's," or " Th' Trafford," or " Th' Vic .? "
even royalty being nowadays shorn of its fair dimen-
sions. Within those walls appeared, during many years, a
succession of surprises for the people. " Matchless sing-
ers 1 " " Inimitable dancers ! " " Champion pedestrians ! "
" Belted bruisers ! " and so forth, to the utter exclusion
of the golden mean — the happy medium. Anciently, in
the " dim morning twilight of time," the world was content
238 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
with seven or eight wonders, sparsely distributed over the
globe; but the Trafiford Arms could boast of a new
wonder every week, announced in coloured programmes,
which afforded a treat to the lovers of superlatives and
notes of admiration.
CHAPTER XIX.
OVES SALFORD BRIDGE.
" As in a mirror, vanished years
This well-known view is raising ;
With lightning glow the past appears,
As thoughtful I am gazing.
Be fresh each leaf, be strong each form.
No biting winds impair them ;
And may the red wing of the storm
Pass ever by and spare them."
Anon.
CROSSING the Old Bridge, with the South- West Pro-
spect expanded before us as a guide, we will now
follow its direction along the verdant, tree-decked bank
of the Irwell, upon the Salford side. Apart from the
sylva of the scene, and exclusive of the unpolluted river,
the most prominent object pictured in our pathway is
the boathouse, "in w"'' is a curious Bath." Of this curi-
osity we cannot trace the remote origin, but a few last-
century notes, showing its peculiarities, may be thought
worthy of revival. The earliest allusion, bearing date
1747-48, was printed in Whitworth's Mancliester Maga-
zine, wherein are set forth for sale " Three houses opposite
the Spaw Stile, or Bath Stile, in Salford." After an in-
- terval of forty years, we meet with the following notice
in Harrop : — " 1793, March. — To be sold, the Bath Inn
240 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
in Salford, situate on the bank of the river Irwell, near
the new stone bridge [New Bailey Bridge], and near the
intended junction of the Bolton and Bury Canal with the
said river. There is also a celebrated Cold Bath, well
frequented, and supplied with spring-water, in a con-
venient part of the house." The next announcement
appeared on the 5th of July 1796: — "Public Cold Bath,
at the Lying-in Hospital, Stanley Street, New Bailey
Street, Salford. The ancient cold bath called the Spaw,
so well-known for its coldness, and the plentiful supply
of spring-water which is constantly running through it,
is now fitted up for the use of the public. Terms of
bathing, sixpence per time, or ten shillings and sixpence
per quarter ; towels included." This advertisement was
partly repeated in the Mercury three years later. At
what date the antique boathouse disappeared, or whether
the spring contained therein be yet flowing, deponent
knoweth not. The bath, long ago fallen out of public use,
is now but faintly remembered ; yet Spaw Street retains
the name, while marking the site where it flourished^
It appears by a copy of the Salford charter — translated
by Mr Thomas Peet, and printed in 1824 for private
circulation among the ofiicials of the town — that the
said charter was granted in 1231 by Ranulph, Earl of
Chester and Lincoln. Therein all men present and to
come are greeted, and told that every burgess shall have
one acre for his burgage — which fact clearly points out
the golden era described by the poet Goldsmith, though
commonly supposed to be mythical — "when every rood
of ground maintained its man." Other items of the
charter decree all just debts to be paid, and forbid
Over Salford Bridge. 241
any one to smite his neighbour in anger. Bread made
to sell is to be baked in the Earl's oven by reasonable
custom ; " and if," writes Ranulph, in continuation, " I
shall have a mill there, the burgesses shall grind at my
mill to the twentieth vessel." Free pasture is given in
the woods and plains situated within the borough, and
acquittance of poundage, with permission to reasonably
take within the said wood " all things necessary to build
withal and to burn." Further, it is decreed that when
a burgess "departeth this life, his wife shall abide in the
house with the heir, and there have necessaries as long
as she shall remain a widow; and when again married,
she shall depart freely without dower, and the heir as
lord shall remain in the house." From the said heir all
the acknowledgment required by Earl Ranulph consisted
of a sword, a bow, and a spear.
For the better observance of our individual remini-
scences, it is now desirable to lay aside the public
charter, and to bridge the gulf of six hundred vanished
years, leaving the spears and good yew-bows of the
Middle Ages, with the potent Ranulphs who guided
them, to their dreamless rest and natural oblivion.
It may not be amiss to indulge for a brief space in
a few early recollections of a familiar locality that has
gradually become metamorphosed in its appearance and
character ; some of which metamorphoses, if not noted
here, may soon pass from remembrance, and find no other
chronicler.
Born in Paradise Vale, at the foot of Green Bank, near
Broughton Bridge, and dating our existence from the close
of the sixteenth year of the present century — the first
R
242 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
entire year of peace after an age of warfare — we have
seen more than the usual amount of change come over
our birthplace. In some situations Time seems to slumber
with folded wings, while in others he works his marvels
with amazing alacrity. The small town, with its twenty
thousand inhabitants (in 1801 it possessed scarcely half of
that number), has grown into a borough of importance,
containing a population exceeding one hundred and
twenty-four thousand souls, and is duly represented both
in Council and in Parliament. Two newspapers have
also been added to its modern blessings, each journal
guarding its moiety of the inhabitants. Albeit strongly
contrasted in partisan colours, they manage to run their
weekly stages as neighbours, if not as friends. A little
viciousness of temper when they chance to "foul" (as
the rowers say), or restiveness in the political traces, may
be expected and excused. Yet, withal, Salford refuses
to support a theatre, a market, or good book-marts of
its own, preferring to cross the numerous bridges into
Manchester, there suiting its taste, and leaving its money
with its overgrown neighbour. " Much shall have more,"
saith the proverb ; and ever therein lies some foundation
of truth.
Our eariiest impressions of Salford embrace a cluster
of gardens adjacent to our home ; beyond these appeared
meadow land, which in turn was bounded by the river
as it flowed brightly through an abundance of marginal
flowers. Passing to the opposite side of Broughton Road,
we arrive at Shaw's Brow (or Shay Brows, as the spot
was popularly called). This was a spacious playground—
a sort of unenclosed common — where the juvenile Waltons
Over Sal ford Bridge. 243
and Cottons of the neighbourhood angled for jacksharps
with thread and worm, indulged freely in the healthful
recreation of chasing the " sylph of silver, sylph of gold,"
or varied such sports with more boisterous amusement.
The cluster of gardens met their fate soon after we had
formed their acquaintance, for one night the storm-king,
while in a convivial humour, played at nine-pins with the
gates, and rails,, and young trees. Daylight revealed a
promiscuous heap of ruin, which no one cared to restore.
To increase this disaster, the river had overflowed its
banks, covering the meadows almost to our cottage door.
This was an event of frequent occurrence, and, though
reminding one of the overflowings of the Nile, the de-
posits of the Irwell were neither so rich nor so desirable
as those of the Egyptian river. No such wild pranks are
permitted to the Irwell now : its margins are higher
and less easily surmounted ; utilitarians have confined it
with stones, and embanked it with earth ; and henceforth,
at that portion of its winding course, it is expected to
ilow as gently as Deva, and move as circumspectly as
the up-grown child who once frolicked among its mar-
ginal flowers. But sometimes the river chafes under
these restraints, fretting unsafely within its narrowed
channel.
Of such overflowings extensive uninterrupted views were
gained by ascending the long terrace of "Cambell's Flags,"
surmounting the well-known ropery. This ropery at Para-
dise Vale is still in existence — an evergreen divested of all
its verdant surroundings.
Glancing at Springfield Lane, we may remark that on
one side the hedgerows and meadows stretched from the
244 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Irwell to the workhouse ; on the other side, from the river
to Sandy Wells. Nothing intervened save two or three
isolated dwellings, and one or two wooden sheds stand-
ing quaintly by the wayside. How densely that neigh-
bourhood has since become packed with dwellings and
dwellers we need not stay to calculate : suffice it that
the hungriest feaster upon bricks and mortar may there
satiate his appetite.
With Springfield Lane Mr John Collier and his print-
works are closely allied. He was in business at this spot,
as dyer and printer, previous to 1794, and here remained
during three decades and upwards. Probably he suc-
ceeded his father or grandfather, whose demise is thus
worded in the Collegiate register : — " 1775, Feb. 25. —
Thomas Collier, of Salford, dyer," From Thomas's
gravestone, in St Mary's Churchyard, Parsonage, we
gather that he died at the age of fifty-eight, and that
the material he coloured was linen. Evidently, in the art
of dyeing, the Colliers were amongst the Salford pioneers,
albeit an older notice is furnished by an inscription in
the Manchester Cathedral Yard : — " Here resteth the bodie
of Daniel Sutton, of Salford, linen dyer. Was buried the
1 0th day of April 1699."
Mr John Collier's private pond, occupying the space
between his residence and the works, abounded with
choice fish of many hues. They seemed to know they
were holiday fish, often coming, leaping and sportive,
above the surface. To watch their bright colours glisten
in the sunbeams was a feast for our young eyes. Of
course, as we gazed, our juvenility knew nothing of Venus
rising from the sea, or floating in her fairy shell ; but her
Over Sal ford Bridge. 245
zephyrs were fanning us none the less, and the hours
were scarcely more blissful at Cythera. Our memory
next reverts to Mr Collier's imposing funeral procession,
as it ranged from Spring Field to near the top of the
lane, the occurrence dating about the year 1825. With
this gentleman originated Collier Street, adjoining the
first Salford Poorhouse. The printworks, with the addi-
tion of a warehouse in Manchester, were conducted by
his family until 1840, or thereabouts, when they passed
into other hands,
Broster Street, approaching Broughton Bridge, derived
its name from Mr Charles Broster, a charitable individual,
who bequeathed one hundred pounds, "one half thereof
to be distributed in coals among poor widows and house-
keepers of the township not receiving alms, and the other
half to be applied in clothing poor children, and providing
each with a Church of England Catechism." A glance
at the registers shows that Charles Broster, "gentleman,
of Salford," was married, by license, at the Manchester
Cathedral in 1682, and was there interred in the year
1700. In the interim, two of his daughters were baptized
and his wife buried. There is a tablet erected in Trinity
Chapel, Salford, in remembrance of Mr Broster and other
benefactors.
BrearcUffe's Buildings, Gravel Lane, long preserved the
name, though scarcely the memory, of a benevolent lady,
Sarah Brearcliffe. She left by her will, dated 1803, three
thousand pounds for the maintenance or relief of fourteen
decayed housekeepers of Manchester or Salford. This
charity is, we believe, still in active operation.
A curious item appeared in the Mercury for 14th April
246 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
1789:— "To be let for a term of years, two meadows
and one pasture field, situate near Old Grindrod, in
Salford." John Grindred, as may be remembered, was
gibbeted upon Pendleton Moor (now Cross Lane), in the
year 1759 ; and his name, apparently, was given to some
ground thereabouts.
As may be anticipated from the rapid increase of inha-
bitants, houses have displaced the verdure in all direc-
tions, and the pellucid character of the river has been
destroyed by chemical refuse. Although the old localities
still retain their favourite names— names suggestive of
"Flora and the countrie green" — they form so odd an
amalgamation with the new streets to which they are
wedded, that the contrast raises our mirth along with our
melancholy. Wheat Hill has not an ear of corn to bless
itself withal; Spring Field has lost every trace of the
vernal season ; Garden Lane, Posy Street, Blossom Street,
and the Old Orchard lead to anything rather than fruit
and flowers. Even Paradise and Paradise Hill are shorn
of their primeval attractions ; and as to the Green Gate
that once guarded the Salford pastures — where shall we
look for that .' Our taste in this matter is confessedly
behind the age and fashion. We have no more sympathy
with new factories than Wordsworth showed for new
railways, and would at .any time rather see flowery fields
than the tallest chimneys that can be raised upon them.
Our home was situated in the vicinity of the old Cockpit,
a noted rendezvous for the sporting characters of the time,
where the game birds of the twelfth Earl of Derby and
Mr Bold Hoghton, Whitsuntide after Whitsuntide, com-
peted for the sanguinary honours of the pit, and where,
Over Salford Bridge. 247
collectively, the gentlemen of Lancashire and the neigh-
bouring counties came to settle their matches touching
mains and bye-battles. Here was seen in all its glory
the celebrated Derby main-bag, with its rich lace and its
needle-embroidered coat of arms, a sight which was alone
worth the five shiUings admission fee — so, at least, writes
" The Druid," a trustworthy authority On sporting topics.
Many a slain warrior, warm in his gory plumage, did our
mother purchase at the Salford pit. Cock-fighting was
discontinued here in March 1851, at which date the pro-
prietor was fined five pounds, with the alternative of two
months' imprisonment, for allowing a main to be fought
on his premises, contrary to the Act of Parliament passed
in 1835. Shortly afterwards, the building, being rendered
useless, was taken down. It was situated at the rear of
the Bridge Inn, Paradise.
The slain warriors just referred to were bought by our
mother in the vain hope of renewing our father's declining
strength. Clearly can we picture him leaning on his
polished oaken staff, to watch some adventurous spirit ride
a velocipede, or dandy-charger, at full force over the then
new iron bridge into Strangeways ; or, if it chanced to be
holiday time, he would rest on the steps of the Salford
Cross and Court House, and amuse himself with a dis-
tant view of the flying-boats and merry-go-rounds, as
they were exercised on the ancient' fair ground at Stany-
hurst. While thus gazing at surrounding objects, with the
peculiar' sensitiveness engendered by long sickness, his
thoughts were little to be coveted. A working man,
whose health is his sole estate, has need of all his philo-
sophy when his mental view is bounded by an early grave
248 Memorials 0/ Manchester Streets.
and a group of helpless children. The said Cross and
Court House, which stood on the open space of ground at
the top of Greengate, nearly opposite the end of Gravel
Lane, were taken down in the summer of 1824. At Stany-
hurst the land is no longer vacant, many years having
elapsed since it was used for the purposes of a folly fair.
The present generation of pleasure-seekers must look else-
where for the player's half-brother — the showman.
Salford Cross was the scene of tumultuous rejoicing in
July 1 82 1, when the coronation of George the Fourth
was celebrated with exceeding magnificence throughout
Manchester and Salford. Being one of the appointed
stations for the roasting and distribution of oxen and
sheep, supplemented by loaves of bread and barrels of
strong beer, a succession of lively incidents occurred
during the day, culminating, at night, in the most bois-
terous merriment. About five o'clock in the evening,
when the grand procession of trades, schools, and other
associated bodies, numbering forty thousand persons,
had terminated, the distribution of meat and drink to
the populace commenced. The scenes that ensued, at
Salford Cross and other stations, are described by the
reporters of the period as rudely Hogarthian, the waste
of food and liquor being much greater than the enjoy-
ment thereof.
The earliest historical notice we meet touching Salford
Cross takes date from the origin of Methodism in this
town. John Wesley, preaching on the steps of the
Cross, received no kindly welcome from the bystanders.
In language quaintly descriptive we are informed that
one of the "unbroken spirits" around him, more unruly
Over Salford Bridge. 249
than the rest, threatened to bring out the engine and
play it upon the zealous itinerant preacher. " I walked,"
observes Mr Wesley in his "Journal," dated May 1747,
"straight to Salford Cross. A numberless crowd of
people partly ran before, partly followed after me. I
thought it best not to sing, but looking round, asked
abruptly, 'Why do you look as if you had never seen
me before? Many of you have seen me in the neigh-
bouring church, both preaching and' administering the
sacrament.' I then began. ... As I was drawing to a
conclusion, a big man thrust in, with three or four more,
and bade them bring out the engine. Our friends desired
me to remove into a yard just by, which I did, and con-
cluded in peace."
Being by birth a " bird of Paradise," we may venture
to introduce two other birds of similar plumage. Mr
Warwick Brookes, whose fame has latterly extended
beyond the provinces, first saw the " light of the world "
near to that favoured region styled Paradise, being born
in Birtles' Square, Greengate, anno domini 1806. At an
early age he entered the printworks of Mr John Barge,
near Broughton Bridge. Few sounds were more familiar
in our boyish ears than " Barge's Printworks," — situated
opposite to the ancient ford, on the Broughton bank of the
Irwell. Fortunately for young Warwick, his precocious
talent for drawing was observed by the original proprie-
tor of that establishment, who at once caused him to be
removed to the designers' department, thus placing him
on the right path — a judicious act, that is still gratefully
remembered.
One other local artist, Mr William Morton, painter and
250 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
engraver, was born in that celestial-terrestrial portion
of Salford, in the year of grace 1825. Long ere the
names and works of artists or of authors had become
familiar things to us, we formed a friendly compact with
this student of the fine arts. We use the word " student ''
advisedly, because it is a rule with Mr Morton that a
painter must be ever a student — ever striving, though
vainly, to attain the perfection of nature. The views and
portraits interspersed through many published volumes, or
displayed at sundry exhibitions, bear witness to the poetic
feeling, the conscientious refinement, which have guided his
pencil and graver.
These dates and points of biography are given with the
more care and exactness in order that they may serve
to show our natural claims to the said plots of Paradise,
whenever the promised Republican time may arrive for
partitioning the rich acres of England into equal shares !
For such realisation of our birthrights, we fear we must
wait until the Peris revisit the earth, or until we, in our
silent turn, take wing to their far-away and mysterious
realm.
Various derivations of .the word Salford have been
vaguely mooted in print ; but we prefer giving a more
romantic version, conveyed to us by tradition, which
asserts that a notable matron resided on the spot while
it was yet nameless and insignificant ; that she continued
to live here to a green old age, dispensing blessings to
the best of her ability ; and that, when she died, her neigh-
bours testified their gratitude by endowing their cluster of
homesteads with the name of their favourite gossip — Sai.
Ford.
Over Salford Bridge. 251
In connection with Salford, and also with the blos-
soming season of [childhood, a brief episode — a story of
" Cherry ripe " — may be thought worthy of a passing
record. One morning, shortly after the premature decease
of our father, we were proceeding on an errand for our
mother, with a half-crown wrapped for security in brown
paper, and deposited in our pocket, when we encountered
a man with a wheelbarrow, crying " Cherry ripe ! " A
group of children were, of course, congregated around
the tempting ware, and we, without the least hesitation,
added one to their number. Although this junction
happened early in the day, we accompanied him, faith-
fully as his own shadow, until nightfall. Wherever he
went we followed, and whenever he stopped to rest or to
sell we stayed also. The itinerant fruiterer was a man
of wonderful patience and forbearance — a genuine Job.
" Do, children, go home ; you'll get lost," or " Keep your
hands off the barrow-sides," were the only indications
of complaint or remonstrance which he suffered to escape
him, and even these were thrown away, for we stuck, like
cobblers, to the last. Occasionally some one of the little
wanderers would release his hold of the barrow, and stand
(young philosopher as he was) meditating whether it were
best to proceed or return. The doubtful question would
eventually be set at rest by the barrow suddenly turning
a corner and thereby vanishing from his sight. Then
would he take a last lingering look — and it was truly a
longing look — towards the departed cherries, and finally
saunter, with sidelong gait, in search of his home and his
mother. Let us now turn the corner of the street, take a
few hasty steps, and here we are once more beside the
252 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
enchanted trundler. Happy fellow! thought we in our
simplicity, to possess such a store of the luxuries of life
— such a perfect Eldorado in a wheelbarrow! Had the
wealth of Croesus been showered upon us, how gladly
would we have exchanged our lot with the poor fruit-
hawker. We had then but a faint idea of the value of
gold ; its glitter was pleasing for a moment to the eye,
but we could receive from it no substantial enjoyment.
Far different was our estimate of the pedlar's treasures ;
there was the intrinsic beauty that surpassed show — the
charms not only to be seen, but felt. We knew they were
sweet, rich, juicy ; and we felt sure that one glorious feast
of those luscious cherries must be the climax of human
felicity. "It were no figure of speech to say," as the
learned Serjeant Buzfuz expressed himself, that our
mouths moistened on that trying occasion. Alas ! the
eye was our only fea^ter. Fancy and the thin air
formed the extent of our regaling. Night came at length,
and relieved us from further suspense ; nevertheless, our
features fell, like barometers in rainy weather, as the last
pound of cherries disappeared from the barrow, and the
price jingled in the pedlar's pocket. We were, indeed,
knights of the rueful countenance. The charm being now
broken, we awoke to a true sense of our situation.
Hungry and tired, we had angry guardians to encounter
at the close of our return journey. The direful rod rose
vividly before us. To find this vision realised was .the
probable fate of each truant; and our own tribulation
was much increased when we examined the tiny pocket
wherein our mother's half-crown had been deposited, and
missed the coin, paper and all ! How or whither it had
Over Salford Bridge. 253
vanished we knew not, nor has the mystery been since
revealed.
The opinions of writers respecting the opening stages
of life's journey are various and conflicting ; the majority
assert that childhood is all sunshine and happiness, while
the opposition contend that it is an era of helpless suffer-
ing. Such opinions are all warranted by contrast of for-
tune or by individual circumstances. Those heirs to good
luck who have found their playgrounds unlimited, and
their butterflies without stint— their flowers springing at
the homestead, and their every want anticipated by affec-
tion — ^will naturally sigh for a renewal of " the old time ; "
but the workhouse orphan and the drunkard's child, who
have no one to bring them comfort, and who cannot aid
themselves, will rejoice with equal reason when their help-
less days have been long enough past.
These juvenile reminiscences of Salford may be fittingly
brought to a close by a poem which we penned many
years ago, suggested by the common wilding flowers : —
BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES.
Bloom on, ye daystars of the plain.
While mfant hearts beat high ;
Bloom sweet through sultry summer's reign,
Bloom on, and never die !
Langsyne, amid your beauties wild,
My mother led me forth, a child.
When light curls waved above the brow
That care has lined and shadowed now.
How bright her eyes with bosom glee
While gazing in her pride on me.
When heaven bestowed its blissful hours
And Joy first found me culling flowers !
254 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
She watched me with a mother's care,
In scenes of earth almost divine,
And breathed a mute yet fervent prayer
The daisy's fate might aye be mine —
Beneath a stainless sky to live,
While earth her genial hours could give.
I culled the flower with thoughtless glee,
Her prayers would fain have linked with me,
And placed it near her, death-allied.
" Emblem of life," she faintly sighed,
" How brief thy date, though bright thy bloom,
How soon the young may seek the tomb ! "
And grief stole o'er her gentle breast
(As evening shadows gloam the west),
To think her son might leave her side,
And perish in his early pride.
'Twas thus my mother, sainted soul !
Erst mused o'er Fate's mysterious scroll,
And wondered what it stored for me ;
Whilst I, amid my daystars free,
As little recked of woe or weal.
As little as the flowers could feel.
Pride of my childhood, youth, and age.
In Nature's book the fairest page.
Bloom on, for ever gem the sod —
The child's inheritance from God !
Sweet flowers that crown my favourite lea.
Though aye from thought and care ye're free,
How much deep thought ye yield to me !
Once more I strayed, when years had flown,
To muse above your charms alone ;
Gay summer laughed o'er moor and glen
And all seemed young and blythe as when
I frohcked 'neath my mother's ken :
No more I prized your bloom or breath.
Wee life-buds in the realms of death.
But blessed the pure, lone watch ye gave
Mute guardians of my mother's grave !
Over Salford Bridge. 255
When shall the tongue, great God, reveal
All that the soul is forced to feel —
The blighted joy, the hope o'erthrown,
That must be felt or ne'er be known ?
'Twere vain to say my heart w^as moved,
My words were hushed, my pride reproved ;
For who hath Joielt at Death's cold shrine
Nor learned the grief that then was mine ?
I plucked one gem the green earth bore,
But gladness wooed not as of yore ;
For youth had crept o'er childhood's prime,
And doubts and fears are linked with time.
I marked yon heaven, o'erarching all.
Where angel feet so lightly fall,
And pondered o'er her destiny ;
While she, beneath my daystars free.
As little recked of woe or weal.
As little as the flowers could feel.
In Flora's train, when sunbeams fall.
What wealth of charms springs forth for all !
But none like thee entrance mine eye,
Or conjure back loved scenes gone by.
Or o'er my heart exert such power —
" Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower."
Pride of my childhood, youth, and age,
In Nature's book the fairest page.
Bloom on, for ever gem the sod —
The child's inheritance from God !
When the formal historian of Salford shall arise in the
future, this retrospective chapter anent its vanished gar-
dens and obliterated green fields may serve as a contrast
and a relief to' the heavier pages, — commercial, statistical,
or otherwise.
CHAPTER XX.
ST Ann's square and its silent inmates.
" Then shall the pilgrim feet find rest,
Peace softly soothe the careworn breast,
The dangerous race be safely run,
The fadeless crown securely won ;
No more by strong temptation tried,
I shall — I shall be satisfied."
Rev. William Gaskell.
T T T^E are not about to enter St Ann's Square by the
' • broad, easy thoroughfare known as Exchange
Street, where the new and noble Exchange elates the way-
farer on the one hand, while upon the other he is attracted
by gold and silver ornaments, the illustrated windows of
the repository of arts, and anon by chaste and costly
articles of verfu. Any person is at liberty to enter the
square by this route, gazing his fill at the rarities dis-
played. Our entrance shall be made by a narrower inlet,
little known to the public of to-day. Lying before us are
two primitive last-century views — Manchester versions of
Sleepy Hollow, — and most impressive is the slow move-
ment of Time, in all his affairs, as therein delineated.
How we have quickened his paces in these railway days !
Were the venerable greybeard to linger upon the line now,
or rest at the fatal points, the train would assuredly run
Si Anii's Square and its Silent Inmates. 257
him down, and so prevent the celebration of his nineteenth-
century birthday. Here he is, in fancy, with flowing fore-
lock, dreaming (but not of railways) beside his hour-glass ;
and instead of rushing after the rushing newsboy for the
latest telegram, he would wait a week for his tardy news-
paper. If any important intelligence arrived in the
meantime, he set the bells a-ringing, and the welcome or
the warning pealed forth from the church tower, instead of
quietly issuing, as now, from the telegraph ofHce. Poor old
Time ! He must needs re-sharpen his scythe. Though a
matchless worker in his prime, he is ageing now, and the
glory of the brightest day departs when the sun goes
down.
Looking somewhat more literally at our pictures of
Manchester as it was, we perceive two covered inlets pre-
occupying the site of the present Exchange Street. One,
significantly termed the Dark Entry, otherwise Acre's
Court, with a pump at the further end, served the unambi-
tious pedestrians ; the other — Coffee-house Entry — much
wider, and running underneath a portion of the Eagle and
Child Coffee-house, accommodated, one at a time, the few
vehicles then in use. This pile of buildings was taken
down (according to Wheeler's History) about 1776, to make
way for Exchange Street ; a few years later the Exchange
itself was removed from the central position it had so long
occupied. Thus the original form of the Market Place
was obliterated, and its aspect became entirely changed.
We owe something — gratitude at the least — to the useful
hands, with timely pencils, who hastened to sketch our
doomed antiquities when their knell had been officially
sounded. Only in these pictured resemblances can we
258 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
now recognise our ancient historical town, or understand
how widely it differed in every essential particular — in
form, character, and manners — from the modern city
engrossing its name and place. Engrossing may sound a
harsh term, but it justly applies to all impatient heirs who,
imitating Prince Henry, put on the kingly crown before
the king resigns in a natural way. Leaving the Dark
Entry upon our right hand, we will now pass under the
wider archway, and so enter St Ann's Square. Amongst
the traders in this gateway, the most prominent objects (as
we glean from chronicles, not from drawings) were an
industrious cobbler and his stall, ready to repair, with all
the philosophy pertaining to the gentle craft, the fractured
shoe of any " citizen of the world " who might chance to be
passing. With this cobbler and his stall we need not
dwell. Goldsmith has efficiently described a similar pair ;
and Liverseege has painted them — industrious and homely,
and with a partiality for the Political Register. On emerg-
ing into the square, we are confronted by two rows of
trees, standing in Indian file, one row on each side. They
profess to be young plane-trees, duly rooted in the earth,
but to uncultured visions they resemble vegetable nine-
pins as placed in a skittle-alley, and awaiting the bowlers
to topple them over. We marvel how such trees with-
stood the wind-storm that swept the country in 1703, or
braved the hurricane of 1802, when one of the dial-plates of
St Ann's clock was forced from its position. This ground,
a few years prior to the scene reviewed, was Acre's Field,
with a turnstile used for regulating the ingress and egress
of holiday visitors to the fair. An eye-witness of those
curious festivals was James Ogden, still faintly remem-
Si Ann's Square and its Silent Inmates. 259
bered as "Poet Ogden," who published anonymously in
1783 a useful description of Manchester, founded on
personal observation. This brochure is still consulted,
while the laboured epics of the writer are utterly
neglected — a comparison that would apply to some
authors of greater mark. If asked, for example, what
Lady Morgan wrote, we should be apt to reply " Kate
Kearney," — forgetful of the numerous volumes on which
she hoped to build her fame ; yet " Kate Kearney " was
flung off in a girhsh impulse — the one Promethean spark
vouchsafed to mortal. James Ogden's son — of blanketeer-
ing fame — was interred in St Ann's Churchyard, but his
grave (as we learn from one of his descendants) is now
outside the eastern railing, and within the narrow passage
leading to the bank of Messrs Jones, Loyd, & Company.
Beyond the eccentric plane-trees, from which we have
slightly wandered, and at the extremity of the modern
houses, appear St Ann's Church and graveyard, then
newly erected and formed. Here let us seriously contem-
plate a few epitaphs, marking the uncertainties of life.
From such consecrated ground Humour must depart with
her mimes, meek Reverence taking her stead.
The earhest notices of St Ann's Church are found in the
homely diary of a Manchester wigmaker, which we had
once the curiosity to read in the worn manuscript volume.
It has since been included (barring a few items that must
remain unprinted) in Mr Harland's " Collectanea."
" 17 12, July 17. — Remarkable for St Ann's Church consecration,
and a great concourse of people. Good business, and I sober at
eight o'clock at night, but was merry before I went to bed. Bishop
Dawes performed the consecration, Mr Bagaly endowed it, the clergy
responded at entrance, Mr Ainscough read prayers, Beatman 'sponsed,
26o Memorials of Manchester Streets.
the Bishop read the gift both in Latin and English, Mr Bond preached
on ' Holiness becometh thine house, O Lord.' Then the Bishop and
clergy, and who would, stayed sacrament. Thus they was about four
hours in this great work.
" 20th. — Great work at St Ann's.
" September 20. — This being market and Accar's Fair and all, I
wish good business.
" 17 1 3, May 13. — Yesterday was buried Dr Yarborough at New
Church, Dr Banne preached his funeral sermon. He's the first that
ever was buried there. [This statement is verified by the register,
the first entry therein being as follows : — " 17 13, May 12th. — Doctr
Yarborough, buried at St Ann's."]
"June 14. — Stayed at home forenoon; heard Bishop of Man in
St Ann's afternoon on peace of conscience.
" August 2. — I fled to St Ann's ; in forenoon I heard Dr Leaster
there.
" 1 6th. — Heard Dr Banne at St Ann's two sermons, one on the
sacrament, the other on sincerity of intention.
" 1714, August 3. — Heard this day of Queen Anne's death;
there's great sorrow for her.
" 6th. — News of King George's proclamation at London, ist instant.
Heard King George prayed for at St Ann's Church this day. O
God, send us peace ! "
Quitting the quaint diary for the lettered gravestones,
a lengthy Latin inscription informs the reader that the
remains of Nathanael Banne, A.M. (apparently the first
regular pastor of the church), were here deposited in Sep-
tember 1736, at the age of sixty-five. Another Latin in-
scription records that Josephus Hoole, A.M., rector, died
on the 27th of November 1745, aged sixty-three. Various
descriptive writers have paused at this grave, and, without
quoting the epitaph, have told us with evident delight how
sedately the Pretender's officers surrounded the mourners
during the burial of Mr Hoole, behaving as Christians and
as gentlemen. Although, as soldiers, they had thrown
Si Ann's Square and its Silent Inmates. 261
down the gauntlet in defiance of death, they stood, with
bonnets and plumes reversed, on the neutral confines of
the grave. Strange that all our local painters have over-
looked this historic scene. One will migrate to Bettws,
another to Conway, while a third rambles to Ambleside,
in search of a fresh subject where little of freshness re-
mains, to the utter neglect of an impressive picture lying
at their own door. " Dearly bought and far-fetched," may
be good for artists as well as for ladies.
A neighbouring inscription to that of Mr Hoole marks
the family grave of the Quinceys : —
" lie the remains of Mrs Sarah Penson,
Relict of the late Samuel Penson, of London,
who died Jany. i6, 1790, aged 69 years.
Also of Thomas Quincey, Merchant, who died
July 18, 1793, aged 40 years."
Then follow the names of two daughters of Thomas and
Elizabeth Quincey. In November 1780, the Mercury thus
announced the wedding of these parents of the Opium-
Eater : — " Wednesday last was married, at St George's,
Queen Square, Mr Thomas Quincey, linen merchant in
this town, to Miss Penson of North Street, London." Of
the Opium-Eater himself an interesting reminiscence
occurs in a thoughtful article, " The Visible and the In-
visible in Libraries," contributed by Mrs R. C. Waterston
to the Atlantic Monthly, and since pubHshed in pamphlet
form by Mr Robert Holt of Manchester :— " Coming back
from the Paduan hall, so weird and ghostly, we glance
along the shelves at a long row of volumes which bear De
Quincey's name, and we need not open a page to feel the
mysterious spell of the Opium-Eater. Like one of those
262 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
strange dreams of his seems a remembrance which comes
back to us with his name. A quaint, tall house in the old
part of Edinburgh has admitted us into a quiet apartment,
where, as the twilight is creeping in through the windows,
a small grey man receives us, with graceful and tender
courtesy. He converses with a felicity of language like
that of his printed pages, but in a voice so sweet, so low,
so exquisitely modulated, that the magical tone vibrates
on the ear like music. It was De Quincey, who held
us entranced until darkness gathered around us, then
bade us farewell, his kind words lingering on the air, as,
with a flickering candle in his hand, he flitted up the
winding stair, and vanished away." It will be remem-
bered that De Quincey, dying at Edinburgh towards the
close of 1859, was interred at St Cuthbert's Church in that
city. Some day, we may safely anticipate, one of the
numerous summer tourists to the lochs and mountains,
turning aside from the beaten tra'ck, will visit the grave of
the profound thinker, and inform us of the nature of his
epitaph, or the character of his monument. His eldest
surviving son, Francis John de Quincey, M.D., died at
Brazil on the 12th of April 1861.
The request herein contained has been promptly gra-
tified. A gentleman of Crumpsall, drawn by business or
pleasure to the Modern Athens, very considerately copied
for us the inscription to the Opium-Eater's memory,
accompanying it by a sketch of the tombstone, as it
appears fixed against the wall of St Cuthbert's Church-
yard, facing the Caledonian Railway Station. The sketch
has since been carefully elaborated. Our obliging cor-
respondent describes the tombstone as being about six '
TOMBSTONE OF THOMAS DE QUINCEY.
6V Anns Square and its Silent Inmates. 263
feet high, two feet and a half wide, and made of plain
polished freestone. The gentle controversy touching
Thomas de Quincey's birthplace is perplexed rather than
set at rest by this latest evidence, the monumental in-
scription. It states that he was born at Greenhay;
whereas his father's will and other family documents
(formerly in the possession of the late Mr John Sudlow)
show that the house was not built until the close of 1790,
five years subsequent to the birth of the future author.
The documents are thus supported by De Quincey him-
self in a reminiscence of his sixth year : — " Greenhay, a
country-house newly built by my father, at that time
was a clear mile from the outskirts of Manchester; but
in after years Manchester, throwing out the tentacula of
its vast expansions, absolutely enveloped Greenhay. . . .
After changes so great, it will be difficult for the habitue
of that region to understand how my brother and myself
could have a solitary road to traverse between Greenhay
and Princess Street, then the termination, on that side,
of Manchester. But so it was." Moreover, his baptism
at St Ann's strengthens the conviction that he was born
at his father's town-residence.
Returning to St Ann's Churchyard, we trace, on the
south side, the lettered stone of a once "very consider-
able hatter : " —
" Here lyeth the body of Miles Bower, who
died March 22, 1780, aged 84. Elizabeth,
his Wife, buried 22nd of October 1771, in
the 7Sth year of her age."
Then follow, in peculiar arrangement, the names and
dates of demise of seven of their sons and daughters.
264 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
The homes of Miles Bower & Son, standing backward
from Aldport Lane, and with numerous posts in front,
is pictured in Berry & Casson's plan of the town. At
the north-east corner of the churchyard may be read
the "short and simple annal" of a local public charac-
ter — John Shaw — who won much notice during life,
and whose Punch-House near the Old Shambles, in
Smithy Door, has been frequently described since Dr
Aikin first drew attention to its peculiarities. Appar-
ently the veteran outlived his race, the dates on the
stone proving that a numerous family preceded him to
the grave. When John Shaw's Punch-House was con-
verted to the King's Head Tavern, the " house-warming "
was duly announced in the Mercury in January 1809.
The last inscription we shall extract from St Ann's
bears reference to a post-office functionary who was
eulogised in the newspaper obituary as "second to none
in this part of the kingdom in the knowledge of his pro-
fession."
" Here was interred John Willatt, late Post-
Master of this town, who departed this hfe
July 24, 1772, aged 41 years. . . . Also
Sarah Willatt, late Post-Mistress of this town,
who departed this life 25 December 1801,
aged 70 years."
Latterly the suggestion has been mooted that St Ann's
Church, being considered no longer an ornament, should
be removed, giving place to a wide entrance into King
Street; merely sentiment and feeling, it is stated, stand-
ing in the way of the alteration. But do not these two
elements furnish the poetry of life, which Hazlitt affirms
Si Ann's Square and its Silent Inmates. 265
is the only part worth possessing? Ignore sentiment
and feeling, and what will remain save the hard, unlov-
able selfishness which is the bane of society? Even
self-interest may suggest forbearance, remembering that
the living of to-day may become the dead of to-morrow.
When the removal of a graveyard is a stern necessity,
it may be decently covered, even lightly built over, but
never exhumed. " Dust to dust," saith the Word.
The publication of this chapter has elicited two or
three letters containing matter of peculiar interest, which
may in part be made available here. " Mulberry Street,
out of Ridge Field [writes a former student of our
Grammar School] was named after a fine mulberry-tree
that grew there. I have a dim recollection of St Ann's
Churchyard before a part of the yard was added to the
street. I also remember the church being draped in
black during Lent; and old Miss Newberry, a resident
in King Street (where Anderson's shop now stands),
being conveyed in probably the last of the sedans to
attend morning prayers at St Ann's." The memory of
our informant is supported by a line, repeated through
a series of years, in Pigot's Directories — " Newberry, Mrs
Ann, 50 King Street." The final appearance of the name
was in 1829,
Later still, we may take our farewell of the sedan-
chair with Miss Eleanor Atherton, long a resident of " 23
Quay Street, and of Kersall Cell," but now reposing in the
moorland churchyard. Finding the sedan of her youth
(apart from the nimble-footed linkboy) convenient for
the infirmities of her age, she retained it in use almost to
the close of her life. Thus the sedan-chair was rendered
266 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
familiar to Miss Atherton's neighbours, as likewise to her
fellow-worshippers at St John's Church, under the minis-
try of its recently-deceased pastor, the Rev. William Hunt-
ington.
From another correspondent comes a curious revelation
of the past — a recollection of a passage in Manchester his-
tory which may serve as a sequel to our notes upon St
Ann's Churchyard : —
THE MANCHESTER JACOBITES.
" I was dining, some thirty years ago, with the late Dr S. L.
Bardsley. When the cloth was removed, the conversation took a
more narrative character than is usual. Many personal recollections
were told, and at length one of the guests incidentally mentioned
the traditions of Manchester at the time of the Jacobite disturbances.
Upon this our host observed how singular it was that the authorities
of that day had never discovered the persons who had removed from
the Manchester Exchange the heads of Jemmy Dawson (the hero of
Shenstone's ballad) and the two Deacons, which had been exposed
there, after their execution, as participators in the Jacobite troubles.
He added that he was the only person living who could then solve
the mystery. He went on to say, that many years previously (I
forget the exact date) he was in attendance upon one Miss Hale
who lived in King Street, and who had been a great partisan of
Charles Edward. The old lady, who was then about ninety years
of age, and believed herself to be dying, as was in fact the case, dis-
missed all her attendants from the room except the doctor ; and
having ascertained from him that she had not many hours to live,
told him that her brother, who was then dead, was the person who
had removed the heads in question, and that they were then buried
in the garden at the back of the house in which she was living. She
concluded by making him promise that, when she was gone, he would
have them taken up and placed in consecrated gi-ound.
" I need hardly add that Dr Bardsley strictly fulfilled her wishes.
Three skulls were found in the garden, as she had stated, and they
Si Ann's Square and its Silent Inmates. 267
were placed, as I understood, in St Ann's Churchyard. This is the
more probable as there are now tombs of the Deacons to be found
there.
Y."
A few words of explanation seem necessary. The head
of James Dawson was never exhibited upon our Exchange,
nor more than one of the Deacons. The general belief
is, that only two heads (those of Thomas Theodorus
Deacon and Thomas Syddall) were there displayed ; but
in some accounts the cranium of Thomas Chadwick is
added. The early executions connected with this dis-
trict form the unsatisfactory part of our history, some of
the printed statements concerning them being vague or
traditionary, while in other instances the authorities are
so contradictory that we are perforce reminded of the
opening lines of Macheath's ballad — " How happy could
I be with either, were t'other dear charmer away." Now
that the Palatine records are removed from Lancaster to
London to facilitate reference, the perplexing doubts, the
bootless surmises, hitherto prevailing, may shortly be dis-
persed by the more certain information embodied in those
long-hidden documents.
When our first Exchange was taken down, the build-
ing materials were bought by a Mr Upton of Church
Street : so states an aged resident, whose useful remem-
brances are embodied in " Collectanea." The same resi-
dent further sayeth, that he saw a portion of those mate-
rials lying in Mr Upton's yard, near Shepley Street, Bank
Top, and noticed that the two spikes whereon the heads
of Deacon and Syddall had been placed still remained
fastened in one of the stones.
268 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
The first Exchange deserves more than a mere cursory
glance or passing remark, as we have elsewhere shown.
It is worth the modern citizen's while — if the organ of com-
parison be marked "Full" upon the flattering phreno-
logical character kept at home for private consolation —
to take a peep at the vast, elaborate Town Hall, — at the
noble, newly-erected Exchange, — at the theatres (the
Royal, the Prince's, the Queen's), — and then rest his
eyes upon this portraiture of the neat edifice which did
duty for them all little more than a century ago ! Could
silent contrast be more eloquent or impressive ? Here
is the rise and progress of mercantile Manchester vividly
conveyed in a glance. Alas for the blind ! — sad must be
their deprivation, when striking comparisons such as
these are lost to their sightless orbs. It was long ac-
credited, upon the averment of the "oldest inhabitant,"
that our first theatre was formed of wood and canvas,
but thorough research proved that the early players
exercised their vocation in the more substantial buildine
here represented. Doubtless, the town was formerly
surrounded by growing timber, but a stone quarry also
existed in the neighbourhood, at Collyhurst, and our an-
cestors were wise enough to utilise both materials — in
their theatre, as likewise in their church.
Public interest in the subject of the Jacobite rising has
been newly awakened by Mr William Harrison Ainsworth
in his latest novel, entitled "The Manchester Rebels of
the Fatal '45."
" When I was a boy," writes Mr Ainsworth in his preface, " some
elderly personages with whom I was acquainted were kind enough to
describe to me events connected with Prince Charles's visit to Man-
THE FIRST KXCHANGE. BUIT.T 1729. TAKEN DOWN 1792^
6"/ Amis Square and its Silent Inmates, 269
Chester, and the stories I then heard made a lasting impression upon
me.
"All my early life being spent in Manchester, where I was born
[on the 4th of February 1805, in King Street], bred, and schooled, I
am naturally familiar with the scenes I have attempted to depict.
" Little of the old town, however, is now left. The lover of an-
tiquity — if any such should visit Manchester— will search in vain for
those picturesque black-and-white timber habitations, with pointed
gables and latticed windows, that were common enough sixty years
ago. Entire streets, embellished by such houses, have been swept
away in the course of modern improvement. But I recollect them
well. No great effort of imagination was therefore needed to recon-
struct the old town as it existed in the middle of the last century ; but
I was saved from the possibility of error by an excellent plan, almost
of the precise date, by John A. Berry, to which I made constant
reference during my task. Views are given in this plan of the prin-
cipal houses then recently erected, and as these houses were occupied
by Prince Charles and the Highland chiefs during their stay in
Manchester, I could conduct the rebel leaders to their quarters with-
out difficulty. One of the houses, situate in Deansgate, belonged to
my mother's uncle, Mr Touchet. This is gone, as is Mr Dickenson's
' fine house in Market Street Lane, where the Prince was lodged. In-
deed, there is scarcely a house left in the town that has the slightest
historical association belonging to it."
With this congenial extract we may fittingly take leave
of the Manchester rebels, whose adventures are so closely
allied to our first Exchange and to St Ann's Square.
CHAPTER XXI.
BITS OF OUR BOROUGH TOWN.
"One passion I had, and that was to hunt up every relic of antiquity I
could possibly manage to travel to ; and there vi'as not an old hall nor an old
church within a, circuit of twelve or fourteen miles that I did not make a
pilgrimage to. The vestiges of old Manchester claimed particular attention,
and I haunted the neighbourhood of the College and the Church, looking at
the outsides of the houses (I was too shy to think of asking permission to
enter any of them), until I knew every chink in their weather-beaten faces,
and came to look upon them as my intimate friends."
" Green Mantle," by Joseph Perrin.
AS our chapters draw towards a close, we find upon
- our hands a few interesting facts which concern the
town in general rather than apply to particular localities.
Being centenarians, these facts are clothed with certain
simplicities of expression and of nature, long ago obhter-
ated by modern refinement. As they present a rather
curious picture of Manchester life during the last century,
their revival here seems legitimate. The whole are in-
cluded — auctioneer-fashion — in one lot, for the purpose of
effecting a clearance.
1 746, April. — " To be sold at John Berry's shop in Manchester, a
curious plan and prospect of Manchester and Salford, price eighteen-
pence. Ditto, price sixpence, small. Prospects of churches, St
Ann's Square, and the Long Room, at threepence each."
This advertisement, appearing in Whitworth's Manchester
Magazine, seems to bear reference to a reprint (with some
alterations) of the plan and prospect issued in 1741 by
Bits of our Borough Town. 2 7 1
John Berry and Russel Casson. In 175 1 was published a
third edition, with further variations.
1755. — " Whereas, in the night time, between the 30th and 31st
of December, one of the gates belonging to the Collegiate Church was
thrown into the river ; Part of four gate pillars belonging to St
Ann's Church were thrown down : And one end of the Stocks, in
the Market Place, pulled up and carried away : "
A reward of twenty guineas was offered for information
that would lead to the apprehension of the offenders. The
spirit of mischief was evidently abroad. Those midnight
larkers were the precursors of the modern roysterers who
glory in wrenching off knockers and hurling them through
bedroom windows with a noise that might startle the Seven
Sleepers.
1763, Sept. — "To be sold, all that messuage and tenement, with
the outhousing, orchard, and garden, called Withingreave [Withy
Grove] Hall. Also, one dwelling-house, divided into three cottages.
And also four closes of land and meadow ground, containing eight
acres and a half, lying very conveniently at the higher end of Shude
Hill."
1765, July 30. — "Whereas, the Reservoir at the top of Shude
Hill was by some malicious person cut down, and the water let off,
on the 13th of this month : This is therefore to give notice, that if
any person will inform who did the same, they shall upon conviction
of the offender receive Five Guineas reward. And whereas some
persons have made a practice of drowning Cats and Dogs, washing
dirty Linnen [which, proverbially, should be washed at home], and
carrying away water from Shude Hill pitts, and the pit at the top
of Market Street Lane, without consent : This is therefore to give
notice, that if any person or persons do the same for the future, they
shall be prosecuted to the utmost rigour of the law."
1767. — "Notice is hereby given, that on Saturday the 28th day
of November, the following regulations will take place within the
Manor of Manchester : — The Exchange [then standing in the
Market Place, where the large lamp is now seen] and the south and
east avenues to it, to be cleared from butchers' standings and all
272 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
other standings. The butchers' standings to be placed against the
other parts of the Exchange, and in two lines on the sides of the
Market Place, to near the end of Old Millgate. The bread bakers'
stands to be in the place near the Cross where the Wheat Market
was held. Potatoes, turtiips, carrots, and other roots sold wholesale,
to be exposed for sale in the New Potato Market, and no other
place. Fruit, and roots of all kinds, sold by hucksters, in the Apple
Market, and no other place. Shoes and stockings and hardware, in
the lower part of the Withingreave, where the potato market has
heretofore been held. The gardeners' stands to be placed in the
upper end of Smithy Door ; and fish in the Market Place, near the
Cross."
The hay and straw market was removed, in 1804, from
Market Stead Lane to Bridgewater Street, Deansgate.
1768. — "To the inhabitants of the town of Manchester. This is
to give notice : That if the liberty or privilege of passing and Re-
passing through a certain building called the Exchange, near King
Street, in the said town of Manchester, which the owners thereof
have for several years permitted the said inhabitants to enjoy, be of
any convenience or utility to the said inhabitants in general, or to
any of them in particular, they may purchase such liberty or privilege
upon reasonable terms."
1769, January 10. — "It is reported that there will soon be
opened a new spacious road from the top of the hill beyond the
Infirmary to Ardwick Green Bridge, but whether it is to be done by a
voluntary contribution of particular gentlemen who desire it, or at
the expense of the inhabitants of the town of Manchester, who will
not be in the least benefited by it, is not yet determined, though it is
a matter of some consequence, as it will cost several hundred pounds."
"Manchester, October 9, 1770. — The inhabitants of this town are
desired to take notice, that the old engines for extinguishing fires are
at the Lodge in the Old Churchyard, and in the Engine House, Tib
Lane, as heretofore ; that one new small engine is at St John's
Church ; a second at St Mary's ; a third in the Angel Yard, Market
Place; a fourth at Mr Josiah Birch's, High-street; and a fifth at
Deputy Kay's, Milngate, where they are kept in constant readiness ;
and the constables beg this opportunity of requesting all manner of
persons to be most careful in preventing the necessity of using them."
B lis of our Borough Town. 273
1 77 1. — "To be Let, all that ancient mansion, house, and pre-
mises, known by the name of Lever's Hall, situate at the upper end of
Market Street Lane ; either altogether, or divided into two parts ; with
or vnthout the addition of such other buildings as shall be required
for the carrying on the business of the tenant or tenants ; the whole
or either part is, or may be made, convenient for an Inn, Boarding
School, or other public purpose."
In 1788 this hall had become the White Bear, in Lever's
Row.
The next curious item may be added to the forthcoming
edition of the " History of Signboards." It points to the
period when shops as well as taverns were commonly indi-
cated and adorned by projecting emblems : —
" Manchester, Dec. 24, 177 1. — With the approbation and concur-
rence of the Magistrates, we, the Boroughreeve and Constables, request
the shopkeepers and Inn-holders of this town, who have not already
taken down their signs, to do the same as soon as possible, and
place them against the walls of their houses, as they have been long,
and justly, complained of as nuisances. They obstruct the free pass-
age of the air, annoy the passengers in wet weather, darken the
streets, &c., all which inconvenience will be prevented by a compli-
ance with our request, and be manifestly productive both of elegance
and utility. — ^Thomas Scott, Benjamin Bower, John Bell."
1772, Nov. 26. — "At a town's meeting, held at Fletcher's Tavern,
a proposal was made to give up to the use of the public a new road
called Oldham Street, leading betwixt the top of Market Street Lane
and the Ancoats Lane, in the way to the towns of Oldham and
Ashton-under-Lyne ; that this township will take upon itself the
repair thereof. Adjourned to the 3rd of December next to consider."
1789, Feb. 13. — " The Boroughreeve and Constables hereby give
notice, that proper officers will be stationed in different parts of the
town, to prevent the unlawful practices of cockfighting and throwing
at cocks during the week of Shrove-Tide. The Special Constables
are desired to assist, and to patrole the streets, agreeable to notices
they will receive."
In the iirst volume of Hone's " Every-Day Book," pub-
T
2 74 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
lished in 1826, appears a rude comical woodcut, illustrative
of the custom of throwing or shying at cocks and hens
on Shrove-Tuesday. It represents the scene of a miracle
occurring in Staffordshire, prior to the year 1749, when the
feelings of a hen were so much hurt by the ungrateful
shying of her owner, that she upbraided him in round set
terms, as she lay bleeding upon the ground. " What have
I done,'' inquired her henship, " to deserve such cruel
treatment at thy hands ? Did not my new-laid eggs enrich
thy pancakes ? " and much more to the same laudable
purport. The astonishment of the rustics on hearing this
novel oration is fairly portrayed in the aforesaid woodcut.
Although no similar miracle hastened the decline and
fall of the custom of throwing at cocks in Manchester, it
sank into disuse shortly after the date of the foregoing
official announcement.
With the closing year of the last century appeared a
couple of brief notifications, which contrast strongly with
present usage : —
1800, June. — "On Saturday a man was convicted, before the
magistrates at the New Bailey for selUng bread before it had been
baked twenty-four hours, and paid the penalty of five pounds, besides
costs."
1 800, June. — " On Friday last were seized in this town, by the
market-lookers, seven hundred lumps of butter", which were short of
the weight denominated, and which were distributed the next day
amongst the poor inhabitants."
This practice is carried back to 17 12 by a note in
Harrold's Diary: — "June 28th. — I being sent for to look
at butter weight, J. Low, Tho. Bent, and me took ten
prints. I gave three to Crossley, Halliwell, and Symister,
and Holden's wife gave Mr Samuell one print." On another
Bits of otir Borough Town. 275
occasion the diarist was sent for "to look the milk
measures." So it would appear that shopkeepers were
then called to act as triers in the market, in much the
same manner as they are now called to act as jury-
men.
Such seizures were formerly of frequent occurrence.
One market-day in particular — so the story goes — a
dealer, happening to see the ominous shadow of the
market-looker, made preparations for the coming event
by pushing an old penny into each light lump of butter.
Being a copper coin short of the required number,
and pressed for time, he slipped in a crown-piece as
a substitute. The butter, when officially tested, was
still found wanting, and ruthlessly carried away, Brit-
annia and St George and the Dragon notwithstanding.
In the event of any reader wishing to test the gen-
uineness of these unpolished nuggets — the yield of
divers diggings in one mine — a general reference may
be given to Mercury, the universal messenger of strange
tidings, whose chief terrestrial office is now at Chetham's
Library, with a branch at Campfield.
Mr John Stanley Gregson, in his book on Manchester
men and manners, states that a little place called Clock
Alley, near Withy Grove, received its name in a singular
manner. We are enabled to verify his statement, having
ever sihce our boyhood dwelt in that neighbourhood,
and many books have passed from our store to its older
residents. Though now wearing a neglected appearance,
this alley was remarkable, towards the close of the last
century, and later, for a tenantry of a superior yet work-
ing-class character. Chiefly fustian cutters and weavers,
276 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
they managed, by prudent attention, to furnish their
homes with comfort and taste. Although their wages
were not high, rent and taxes were low, while their little
gardens added pleasurably to their store. Further, they
were reasonably content with their true position, never
sacrificing the substance for the shadow in vain efforts
to keep pace with fashion. Nearly every house pos-
sessed as its most useful, prizable ornament, an eight-
day clock, and hence the name of CLOCK Alley.
Another of the peculiar features of the borough town,
unseen at the present day, was the ''"Hot Chelsea Bun ; "
but of that popular compound little must be here written.
The first crier sold his dainty bits before the date of our
remembrance, and the last vanished so recently, that he
may be safely left to the recollection of his many friends.
James Robinson, the first to retail this description of
pastry in Manchester, having departed from the scene
of his peregrinations, a second trader of interest appeared
in our midst, who announced in soft, musical tones, the
addition of Bath buns to his usual Chelsea supply. With
the third local crier the race appears to have died out ;
our streets no longer echo the once familiar sounds ; and
to us the bun itself is consequently as much extinct as
the vendors, for it could only be a tasteless counterfeit
if purchased in a shop. Regretfully, therefore, we con-
sign the " Hot Chelsea Bun " to premature oblivion, —
to slumber (geology willing) with the lost arts and for-
gotten mysteries of the pre- Adamite world.
CHAPTER XXII.
EARLIEST AND LATEST EPITAPHS.
" There children on the tombstones play ;
Here little sweepy wends his way,
And curs profanely tread :
There wedding folk, with cheerful looks,
Trip lightly ; — there good Master Brookes
Inters the peaceful dead." *
TT OLLINGWORTH, referring to the most ancient
-*• -*■ mementoes existing at his era within the Col-
legiate Church, mentions certain alabaster statues formerly-
placed on the north side of the choir ; but nothing of the
kind has been there seen within the range of living
memories — nothing more antique than the familiar brasses
of John Huntington the first warden, and of Bishop
Stanley. Touching the memorials in the yard, Mr Palmer,
writing in 1829, thus observes : — "Adjoining the boundary-
railing, immediately south from Brown's Chapel, is a muti-
lated stone, bearing an inscription, and containing the
oldest date (1632) we could find in the churchyard, except
one that a few years ago was lying under the window of
the Strangeways Chapel, which had only two initials and
the date 1 545 upon it, but is now removed, and probably
destroyed." The first-mentioned of these stones, to the
* "A View in Manchester in the Year 1818," by Charles Kenworlhy.
278 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
memory of Joane Heighfield, is not at present observable,
being covered with soil ; but as it still occupies the same
site, and is merely hidden and turned, let us hope it will
one day, imitating Whittington, "turn again." Another
slab, one year older, filled with a lengthy and interesting
epitaph, disappeared many years ago, but a facsimile
copy, taken by Thomas Barritt, is preserved in the Greaves
Collection. A second copy has been secured, from a
private source, by Mr Councillor Baker. This being the
oldest available inscription belonging to the yard, it has
received unusual attention. The worn letters and muti-
lated figures having in some parts been erroneously
deciphered by Mr Barritt, Mr Baker has corrected them
from family papers. Here is the reliable version : —
" Here resteth the body of Old William
Tailor of Marslech, Bur: 4 of June 1632, of
his ag : 80 ; and of Ehzabeth his wife, Bu :
Nov. II, 1631, ag: 70, famous in their tyme ;
and of their sons Abraham Tailor, Nathaniel
Tailor, Isaac Tailor, Bur: at Boulton. Jacob'
Tailor of Ofiferton in Cheshire, Bur: Aug. 22,
1662, the non-such of his time in the place
where he lived. Samuel Taylor of Moston
Bu: August 30, 1664, ag: 71, of whom the
world was not worthy. Sing on faire souls
your sweet anthems to our great King above,
Whilst I with weeping eyes awhile do wander
here below, hoping ere while to sing with you
above. Alsoe Zacharie Tailor of Marshleach,
Chapman, was buried Jany. 23, 1670."
" Joshua Tailor \ j^^^jj f Jany ye 29, 1700.
Marget his wife J ( Nov. ye 10, 1700."
" Nathaniel Tailor of Moston, burd the 27
of Jahy. 1709. J. T. Jan. 1702."
Earliest and Latest Epitaphs. 279
The Marsleach here mentioned is a portion of the town-
ship of Chorlton-cum-Hardy, and lying on the north side
thereof.
Another interesting slab contains a record which, in its
biographical fulness, is very satisfying to the reader. It is
one of those original memorials, reverent and unassuming,
which the Society of Antiquaries has recently expressed
an earnest desire to preserve. Apparently this stone was
removed from the interior about the year 1690, a new
one of larger dimensions and with fresh inscriptions being
substituted. Fortunately the discarded treasure is not
lost, only turned, and the primitive lettering can at any
time be easily restored to the light of day. The position
is indicated by the Hope and Anchor Tavern. For the
genuine epitaph, rendered verbatim, we are indebted to
Mr Owen : —
" Here . lyeth . the . Bodye . of Hvmfrey .
Booth . whose Piety . lives . in . Trinity
Chappell . at . Salford . hee being . the
cheife . fovnder and . sole . liberal . endower
of . his . Charity . in . a . perpetval annval
large alowance to . the . poore . of . Salford
These', hee . commited . not to . the . fayth .
of . his . execvtors bvt . finished . and . per-
fected them . in . his . life Hee . dyed . the
23 day . of . Ivly Anno . Dom 1635.
Love his Memory
Imitate his Devotion."
As a contrast to the ancient emblems, the most recent
interments may now be cited. The latest before the
closing of the ground was William Jackson, of Fairy Hill,
Cheetham, who died on the 5th of August 1853. The last
burial of all — for which a faculty was granted ^s denoted
28o Memorials of Manchester Streets.
by a low tomb, surrounded by dwarf iron railings, on the
south side of the yard, raised in remembrance of —
" Cecil Daniel Wray, M.A., successively
Chaplain, Fellow, and Canon of this Cathedral.
Entered into his rest April 27, A.D. 1866,
aged 88 years. ' Lord I have loved the habi-
tation of Thy house, and the place where
Thine honour dwelleth.' "
Yet more recently, — at Christmas 1869, — another dig-
nitary of the Cathedral (Bishop Lee) passed to his rest.
His remains were not entombed here, but as his labours
for the welfare of Manchester were continued almost to his
latest hour, a notice of his grave and monument will not
seem inappropriate in these Memorials. For this purpose
a brief chapter, — the next ensuing, — may suffice.
Amongst the curiosities of the intermediate epitaphs
there are at the least two centenarians, — two facts for Mr
Thoms, late editor of Notes and Queries, wherewith to
illustrate his forthcoming volume anent human evergreens.
Jonas Mann died November the 28th, 1780, aged one
hundred and one ; and Ann Barton, of Salford, was buried
on the 2d of April 18 16, at the age of one hundred and
two, as certified in her rhyming epitaph. Another verse,
near the south porch, long celebrated the prowess and for-
bearance of a gentle Amazon of fewer summers : —
" Ann, daughter to Danl. Bell and wife to
John Gallant, buried February y" 2, 1691.
Vnder this stone
Here lies the Woman
Who Gallant was.
Did harm to no man."
A rarity in the musical line deserves a passing notice —
Earliest and Latest Epitaphs. 28 1
" George Williamson, died August 26,
1773, aged eighty-three. He was near seventy
years chorister and singing man to this
Church."
Entering the vault beneath the choir, the first compart-
ment on the right contains one coffin with the subjoined
inscription : —
" The Very Revd. Thomas Calvert, D.D.,
Warden of Christ College, Manchester, died
4th June 1840, aged 65 years.''
Quitting during a brief space the monumental inscrip-
tions, a little variety may be gained by culling some pecu-
liar entries from the early registers. The rarest samples
must perforce be omitted ; only a Smollett, a Fielding,
or a Sterne could fittingly convey them, and the direct
writer would require his own appreciative readers for
such reperusal. Clearly, we cannot represent, in these
nineteenth century columns, the " spade's a spade " phra-
seology of our "rude forefathers." Where would be the
utility of Harrow infusing the rudiments of composition,
or of Cambridge adding the finishing graces, unless we
utilise the scholarly advantages in refining the natural
utterances of the uneducated } More meet for modern
glances are the specimens annexed, some of which will
be found sufficiently curious to suggest a note or raise
a query at another time or place. A few running com-
mentaries are interwoven : —
" 1605, June 3. — A poor wench in Salford."
" 1605, Nov. 14. — Rodger of y= Peek."
" 1613, Dec. 26. — Margerie, widowe to Rodger of the Peele."
" 1619, Dec. 27. — Ffrances, daugh. to Robert Ffletchsone, one of
y"= Waits."
282 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
" 162 1, Feb. 4.— A poore woman, criple, died in y= streete, whose
name is not known."
" 162 1, July 10. — Marye y" wyffe of Robarte Rodley, of y' Peele
in Chetham." [Hence Peel Lane, near the Mile House.]
In the Mermry, January 1766, a lease is thus ad-
vertised : —
" Nine acres of land, with a stable, carthouse, and barn, being
part of the estate called Peel, situate at the top of Red Bank."
" 1623, Nov. 28. — A poore lad that dyed in the Colledge."
" 1628, Nov. 30. — An infant of the Raggman's of Manchester."
" 1683, Aug. s. — Thomas, a stranger found in the Fields."
" 1688, April 5. — Ezra Taylor, being killed by a dragoone."
" 1688, May 27. — John, son of James Kay, of Manchester, king's
cobler."
" 1693, July 3. — Mariah, daugh. to a Dutchman, a soldier."
" 1693, July 9. — Peter, son to John Privoe, a Dutch trumpeter."
" 1695, Aug. 13. — Eleanor Maddock, of Manch. buried in a field
in Salford."
" 1713? Dec. ij. — John Barnes, who was bellman of Manchester
23 years." [Our last official crier was the late Elijah Ridings, at
once bellman and bard. We well remember his picturesque livery and
stentorian orations. Since his bell was silenced, many years have
passed, but only a few months have elapsed since his own voice
was hushed.]
"1728, Feb. 3. — A strange man found dead in John Oldham
barne in Cheetham."
" 1743, April 29. — Mercey Defoe, widow, buried."
As this name is almost unique in England, Mercy is
supposed to have been a relative of the famous author,
but the connecting links are wanting. Such relationship
is probable enough, as only twelve years intervened
between the decease of Mercy and that of Daniel. The
probabiHty is strengthened by the fact (as recorded in
Watson's "History of Halifax") that Defoe, retreating
from persecution in London, resided some time at Halifax,
Earliest and Latest Epitaphs. 283
in Yorkshire, his place of abode being the Rose and
Crown.
" 1763, Sep. 4. — John, son of William Jordan, calligue printer,
of Little Green."
So far as the registers are concerned, this is the ear-
liest mention of calico-printing in the neighbourhood of
Manchester.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE BISHOP 'S GRA VE.
" Death stood in the path of Time,
And slew them as they came ;
And not a soul escaped his hand,
So certain was his aim :
The beggar fell across his staff.
The soldier on his sword,
The king sank down beneath his crown.
The priest beside the Word."
Samuel Bamford.
WHEN will a country churchyard cease to allure a
thoughtful mind? The scenery need not be so rural
as Stoke Pogeis, nor the gazer so sensitive as the poet Gray ;
neither is the sound of the curfew nor the sombreness of
evening requisite to induce a pensive feeling. When we
chance to be under a passing cloud (and the brightest sky
is liable to be obscured), we are apt to turn from the
disappointing transactions of life, and seek — with no
unwilling feet — the promised recompense of the tomb.
As we have never paced the aisles of Westminster Abbey,
and ruminated, like Washington Irving, in Poet's Corner,
we know not the emotions engendered by a contemplation
of noble names when most nobly enshrined. But this we
know — that when we encounter a national name or monu-
ment within the ivied walls of a remote village church, or
The Bishop's Grave. 2S5
meet with a mitred dignitary " taking his rest " simply,
and apparently forgotten, in some sequestered hamlet, the
contrast gives a double interest, if not always a double
charm.
On the south side of the churchyard at Heaton Mersey,
a village of comparatively modern growth overlooking the
principal Cheshire stream, there is a blue granite monu-
ment, about thirty inches high, bearing the subjoined
inscription : —
"James Prince Lee, D.D., First Bishop of
Manchester. Born 28 July 1804, Died 24
December 1869."
At the head of the grave is the Greek word XAAIIISEI,
signifying, "The trumpet shall sound." At the foot are
two shields, containing the arms of the diocese and those
of the Bishop. Upon the upper surface of the tomb ap-
pears the resemblance of a mitre.
As Bishop Lee died at his residence, Mauldeth Hall,
Heaton Mersey, his interment at that churchyard was in
strict accordance with the scriptural inj'unction, "In the
place where the tree falleth, there it shall be ; " yet we
naturally associate a bishop's tomb with his cathedral,
and miss from its "long-drawn aisles" the appropriate
and customary memento.
In the terse biographical pages of " Men of the Time "
(edition 1865), it is briefly stated that " the first Lord
Bishop of Manchester was son of the late Mr Stephen Lee,
secretary and librarian to the Royal Society. He was
educated at St Paul's School, and proceeded thence to
Trinity College, Cambridge, where he obtained a Craven
2 86 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
scholarship, and graduated B.A. in high honours in 1828.
He subsequently became Fellow of Trinity College, assis-
tant-master of Rugby School under Dr Arnold, and head-
master of King Edward's Grammar School at Birmingham,
which post he held from 1838 to 1848. In the latter year
he was consecrated to the See of Manchester, then recently
erected by Act of Parliament. His income, as bishop, is
four thousand two hundred pounds a year."
In glancing over the memorial sermon preached by Dr
Benson in the church at Heaton Mersey, shortly after the
death of the Bishop, we find the grateful pupil thus charac-
terising his former head-master: — "There was not one part
of his mind or life of which this was not the ruling prin-
ciple — ' Give me now the truth.' This was the man who
came to you; a simple member often of your congregation
— often your minister. How much on which your eyes rest
was his gift to you ; and his last gift was to your city.
Besides and above other gifts [including one of four thou-
sand pounds towards building and endowing a church], the
noble hbrary of learning, of Hterature, of art, which was
the home of his brief leisure and his constant joy, which
he turned to such noble ends, is devoted to the help and
the culture of your sons for ever. May you use it worthily,
and with tender thoughts of him who gave it to those he
loved. Though he had a spirit which rejoiced to look back
and count the treasures of old influence and intercourse
which he had enjoyed, — though the ancient halls and
chapel and grounds of Trinity were dearer to him than he
knew how to express,-:-though the elms of Rugby, with
their memories of Arnold, and of Whately, and of Burisen,
were so dear, — though the ceaseless influx and reflux of
The Bishop's Grave. 287
the vast youth of Birmingham, within the ample high-
roofed schools of Edward the Sixth, and the thought of the
Christian seed they bore out with them, was to him a higher
pride than any post could have been in the prime of his
manhood, — ^yet you ought to know that his heart of hearts
was here. ' I can trust God,' he said, when the sudden
change made it necessary to tell him that but a few hours
of life in all probability remained to him ; ' He has been
with me at Rugby, at Birmingham, and in the grand work
here.' This was the voice tliat seemed to linger in the
sunshine and soft air — the sweet warmth, the strange
brightness of the last day of the year, in which we laid
him to rest in the open churchyard among his own poor ;
it was like an early summer day in mid-winter ;— and to
one it was so indeed, an early day of a summer that will
not end."
The library alluded to by Dr Benson now reposes in
meet security at Owen's College, and contains about seven
thousand volumes, chiefly substantial folios and quartos,
many of the books being annotated in Bishop Lee's hand-
writing.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE WAV HOME.
" I do remember passing through
A graveyard long ago ;
I do remember loving too
The form laid down below ;
And often times the tear will start,
When silent memory brings
Those parting sobs, writ on my heart
As unforgotten things."
RicHARb Sheldon Chadwick.
IN some manuscript leaves, written by the late Mr John
Higson, the chronicler of Gorton and of Droylsden,
occurs a remark with which we coincide : — " Much that
is fallacious has been both written and handed down by
tradition, as well as fabricated within a century past,
relative to the early history of Manchester, and of its
church before the period of collegiation." Mr Higson
further considered, as the result of his investigations,
that our early history ought to be briefly re-stated in a
fresh light, for the purpose of correcting the unfounded
surmises .and of removing the wrong impressions now
current in consequence thereof. Unfortunately, Mr Hig-
son's useful life was suddenly cut short, a few opening
pages being all that remain of his projected book. He
had previously, as he states, completed an elaborate
The Way Home. 289
essay, showing that Manchester possessed one church
only — that one being St Mary's — at the time of the
Conquest. This essay, entitled "Rough Notes on Old
Manchester," he sent as a contribution to the editor of a
local newspaper, who lent it to a friend for the purpose
of being read at a meeting of the Rosicrucian Society
The said friend placed it, along with a sketch of his own,
in the pocket of a coat which was hung in the lobby of
his house, whence the coat was purloined by a stray thief
with (as may be assumed) literary proclivities. Mr Hig-
son tried to replace his loss, but ineffectually, as some
of his informants were dead, and some of the books of
reference beyond his reach.
A fatality seems to hang over our local historians or
their subject-matter. Mr Harland once enumerated the
luckless writers who, whilst elucidating the history of
Lancashire (wholly or in part), "came to grief" during
the process. To that list Mr Higson's name may now be
added ; and perhaps the most striking illustration of all
was presented in Mr Harland's own demise. The whole
is suggestive of a warning, which will be little heeded.
So long as there is fascination in a flame, moths will
hover around, and anon rush through the blaze of glory,
even though it scorch them.
Mr Higson's lamented death, the result of a cold not
expected to prove fatal, occurred at his residence, Birch
Cottage, Lees, near Oldham. He " rests from his labours,
literary and otherwise," on the south side of St Mary's
Churchyard, Droylsden, — in which village his prime of
manhood was passed. Here he published, in 1852, the
"Gorton Historical Recorder," and, seven years later,
u
290 Memorials 0/ Manchester Streets.
the "History of Droylsden." Several articles from his
pen, illustrative of the locality or. its notable residents,
appeared in the earlier numbers of the Manchester
Guardian. He was also a frequent contributor to the
Ashton and Oldham newspapers, in addition to Notes and
Queries. Mr Higson's industrious habits will be revealed
by an extract from one of his letters to us, written in
the year preceding his sudden decease. He was ever an
excellent and voluminous correspondent : —
"•I am afraid that there are few local authors who have realised
much by their works. My Chancellor of the Exchequer tells me
very plainly, that my printing whims in one shape or another have,
at times, given her very considerable difficulty.
" I am obliged for the reference to the old newspaper relative to
James Butterworth [author of " Rocher Vale, and other Poems "],
and have asked my worthy friend, the indefatigable John Owen, to
extract the letter for me.
" I will some of these days give a sketch of Edwin Butterworth's
history, but at present I am able to add little new. I am always
scribbnng something when not engaged as Hon. Sec. to the Lees and
Hey Church Institute; superintending a hillside (Cottage) Sunday-
school ; or other gratuitous labour.
" I suppose you see the Reporter regularly, and if so, will have read
the two articles on Clayton Hall. I am busy with a Glossary of the
dialect of south-east Lancashire ; and a Chronology of the Chapelry
of Oldham ; to say nothing about a new love, N. and Q., and my old
sweetheart, the Reporter.
" Reciprocating your good wishes, I am, dear sir, ever yours faith-
fully, John Higson."
In a previous letter Mr Higson thus makes interesting
allusion to his youthful days, when he roamed, like
Bloomfield, a,s a farmer's boy, and herded kye, like
Robert Nicoll,. upon the healthful moorlands : — " I am
also occasionally adding to my Lancashire Glossary,
The Way Home. 29 1
which has poached upon my leisure, ever since I tended
my father's cows, thirty years ago."
From yet older epistles, we are glad of the opportunity
of culling a few more of Mr Higson's characteristic pas-
sages : — " You will find me living underneath the shade
of Droylsden Church If you are fond at all of
country rambles and traditions, I should feel pleased
with a Saturday afternoon's ramble in this neighbourhood
and Gorton." " My acquaintance with the past events of
this neighbourhood, without any boasting, is very consi-
derable, and nothing gives me greater pleasure than in
any way assisting a brother chip." "In the spring and
summer I throw the steel (not quill) on one side, and
take walks with our parson and ' cotter' in my garden."
Mr Higson's memory has been honoured by a stained-
glass window— subject, "The Faithful Servant" — placed
on the north side of the chancel of Lees Field Church. A
similar tribute has been paid to him at Droylsden Church ;
the subject, " St John," being observable nearly opposite
to Mr Higson's pew, on the north side. His headstone,
in the graveyard, bears these words : — " Awaiting in hope
the last great day, John Higson. Died December 13,
1 87 1, aged forty-six years."
Another searcher into our early Church history (Mr
Owen) has had favourable opportunities for arriving at
correct data. A few notes from his diary will throw
additional light where a clearer view is most desirable : —
" 1859, September. — During all the excavations, both in the yard
and within the church, I looked very minutely for any evidence of
Roman occupation (either in a summer camp or othei-wise), but
292 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
nothing could be found— not fhe smallest fragment of pottery or tile,
nor any Roman coins. Several other coins were discovered ; the
most ancient, on being shown to Mr Harland, was conjectured to be
an abbey piece.
" 1861, June 6. — The sundial was lowered two feet.
" 1862, February 11. — Commenced taking down the large north-
east buttress. Found some old work, the most curious being part of
a muUion of which there is no other example about the church.
" 1863, March 23. — Commenced boarding the west end of the
yard, preparatory to taking down the tower.
" 1863, October 14. — The first stone of the new tower was laid
to-day by Mr Holden, the architect. The stone is six feet by five,
and about thirteen inches thick ; it was laid at the north-east angle-
The other stones forming the bed are of similar size, being a great
contrast to the rubble-and-clay foundation of the old tower. It seems
to me that when the ancient foundation was dug, the four sides of a
trench were excavated ; into this was laid the clay, apparently tem-
pered ; rubble and boulder stones of all sizes and shapes were
embedded in the clay up to the level of the ground surface, no mortar
being used. In this mass of clay and rubble I found what I con-
sidered to be the base of a gable cross. In the lower part of the
tower many fragments of old work turned up — jambs of doorways
and a portion of a window-sill without any moulding but a plain
chamfer ; also a portion of window-arch, cusped and plain chamfered ;
several fragments of round mouldings, probably belonging to a string-
course, one specimen chamfered on the underside ; another, with
roll or round moulding on two of its sides, had most likely been fixed
in an angular position. The mouldings of the doorway belong to the
Perpendicular period, while the lower part of the tower has more of
a Decorated character about it. When the British Archaeological
Association was in Manchester, Mr Ashpitel, in his address on the
architecture of the Cathedral, mentioned a doorway under the tower,
which he said must be one hundred years older than the time of the
first warden. Mr Ashpitel made a section of the moulding of this
doorway, and compared it with another which Mr Paley gave as
positively of the date of 1330. Mr Ashpitel then 'passed to the
extreme east end of the church, and there, at the Lady Chapel, he
found the piers of the arch also of a positive Decorated character.
From the peculiar form of the shafts of the piers and their fillets,
The Way Home. 293
they decidedly belonged to the period from 1330 to 135°, sixty or
seventy years before Huntingdon was elected, or the church was made
a collegiate church. It would be important for them to consider what
stood upon the site before Huntingdon's church.' When the tower
was pulled down, a great portion of the materials was piled in the
yard and re-used as rubble for the new tower. One of the workmen,
on breaking up a mass of old mortar, found it unusually hard, and
perceiving something pecuhar in its composition, several of the men
took portions as curiosities ; the remainder, I believe, went into the
tower and was built up : there it perchance may, after another rest of
many centuries' duration, again see the light of day. On paying my
daily visit to the works, I saw one of these pieces of mortar, and
being told where it had come from, said, ' This is neither more nor
less than Roman mortar.' The occurrence brought to my mind what
Leland, the topographer, says of Manchester in the reign of Henry
the Eighth. Of the fort in Castle Field he thus writes : ' The stones
of the ruin of this castle were translated towards making of bridges
for the town.' It seems quite clear by the above discovery of mortar
that the buUders of the old tower resorted for material to the older
castle of the Romans, as weU as to the quarry at CoUyhurst.
" 1867, September 30. — Put up the new tablet for Eleanor Byrom.
During several days past the workmen have been engaged making
an excavation under the east side of the Chapter-house. An old
rubble wall is laid partially bare j it goes down to the gravel, whereas
the foundations of the Chapter-house and the adjoining wall of the
church do not go down so low by about four feet ; it extends under
the Chapter-house from east to west, and projects about four feet
southward beyond the line of the church foundation ; it is formed of
large rubble stones, and is filled in with sand and small stones.
" 187 1, February. — On removing the outer casing of the west wall
of the porch several old mouldings were found, including about haJf-a-
dozen portions of a lozenge mullion. These were ranged horizontally
just under the upper window. We also found on the face of the wall
four putlog-holes, which had been formed by the old masons for
scaffolding. Below the base moulding a portion of a clustered column
was turned out; but the best discovery was a piece of sculpture
representing an angel, with wings partly expanded, and holding in
both hands a scroll inscribed ; there is also an inscription to the left,
but scarcely decipherable. The date of this relic — evidently repre-
294 Memorials of Majtchester Streets.'^
senting the Annunciation — would be about the beginning of the
thirteenth century. There has been a good bit of old work discovered
lately, especially in the foundation of the west end of the south aisle ;
indeed, the foundation, which was rubble, seemed to be composed
almost entirely of old work, amongst which were jambs of windows
and arch-mouldings in the Early English style, fully developed, as
well as the plainer lancet window. A mutilated capital of the Early
English period, and a couple of bases to match of the same style,
were turned up ; within the wall of the present porch I found a por-
tion of the shaft of a newell staircase. The present porch is built
upon a more ancient basement, which formed the foundation of the
entire south wall of the nave. When it was built there is no evi-
dence to show, but from the fact that St Nicholas's or Trafford Chapel
was in existence in 1349 (see ' History of the Chantries,' by Canon
Raines), and that a portion of the south wall was pulled down to the
basement to admit of the erection of that chapel, it must have been
built some time before. We found some portions of Decorated tracery.
As yet we have not discovered any Norman mouldings or carvings,
but I think there can be no doubt the parts of round columns found
here and there within the compass of the church walls belong to that
period. The architect is of opinion that a church existed here in the
Saxon times, and with that opinion I quite agree. The ancient south
wall receded about four feet within the present chapels of St Nicholas
and St George. The base line is not a concave moulding like what
is seen around those chapels, but a simple splay exactly similar to the
base line of the tower.
" 1872, February. — In excavating under the choir for the erection
of the new organ, a portion of the basement of the north side of the
ancient chancel, which existed before the church was collegiated, was
laid bare, exposing three courses of good ashlar masonry, .resting on
a rubble foundation, the uppermost course being splayed, and consti-
tuting the plinth of the ancient chancel ; above this were courses of
more modern masonry. On the excavation reaching the south side
of the choir we found the basement of the south wall of the chancel ;
the masonry appeared to have more of an Early English character
about it. The excavation here showed that when the old chancel
was taken down, a portion of the foundation was taken out, sunk
deeper, and a broader basement laid, on which rest the present
columns and arches of the choir. Whether the ancient chancel was
The Way Home. 295
of two bays, or of three bays, the excavation was not carried suffici-
ently far to show. The old chancel was the breadth of the present
choir, and without aisles. During the excavation on the south side,
some very elaborate arch-mouldings were found amongst the rubble
— portions, no doubt, of the old chancel. If ever there was a wooden
church at Manchester, it existed prior to the Norman Conquest ; for
the numerous remains discovered, wherever the walls and foundation
have been pierced, entirely negative the idea of a wooden structure at
a more recent date, and show the existence at this spot of a handsome
stone building — the St Mary's of Doomsday Book — long anterior to
the present Cathedral church.
" 1874, January 12. — I have seen and minutely examined the
great barn at Ordsal, and I have no hesitation in saying that it never
formed a part of Manchester or any other church, but was built as a
barn, and for no other purpose. The great barns in connection with
the ancient halls were generally constructed of a size necessitating the
erection of rows of piUars to support the great breadth of roof, thus
creating, so to speak, a sort of nave and side aisles, and resembling
in some measure the plan of a church. This may account, to a
certain extent, for the traditions connecting several of the old bams
round Manchester with the ancient parish church. Some persons
who have seen the moulded pillars and roof timbers in the hall at
Ordsal imagine that they must have come from the old church at
Manchester, but they are Late Perpendicular in style, and are allowed
by competent judges not to be earUer than the commencement of the
sixteenth century, and of course could not have been doing duty a
century or so earlier in the old Church of St Mary's. Any one who
has made the old halls of Lancashire and Cheshire his study will see
at once that the ornamental and moulded timbers at Ordsal formed
what was called the great hall, and being open to the rafters, made
what is called an open timber roof. The principals are connected by
other timbers, forming arches with the tie-beams crenelated, so that
there is little difference between the roof at Ordsal and that of an old
church. The timbers of the great hall are now in a great measure
concealed by the floors which have been inserted, and by a number
of bedrooms which have been formed by the introduction of party-
walls. These timbers, which are mostly concealed in the cocklofts,
on being closely examined, bear evidence of being encased in hardened
soot, showing that at an early period the hall was warmed by a fire
296 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
placed probably in the centre of the floor. The smoke would be
allowed to struggle upwards through the roof timbers and escape by
means of a louvre."
Here endeth our survey of Manchester's premier place
of worship, together with its graveyard and its manifold
memorials.
If, as recent movements would indicate, the venerable
pile will one day fall a sacrifice to the modern spirit of
innovation, we may be allowed to hope that the day is
far distant. Many residents of Manchester, and "forty
miles round" (borrowing a phrase from Dr Aikin), can
trace the origin of their family ties to " The Old Church,"
and consequently revere its font, its altar, its graves.
Such residents will naturally regret the severance of life-
long associations when the ancient temple of worship
shall be razed, and when, in the words of the Psalmist,
" the wind passeth over it, and it is gone, and the place
thereof shall know it no more."
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX.
I.
ON THE CHETHAM LIBRARY.
By James Crossley, F.S.A.
The causes which give us pleasure in visiting any parti-
cular place are various, and sometimes very opposite.
We do not exactly mean that pleasure produced by
association of ideas, by the connection or relationship of
the scenes we are entering upon to former times, persons,
or events, but that satisfaction which arises from other
trains of thought, more immediate and less abstracted in
their deduction. Is there not, for instance, in the first
sight of St Peter's at Rome, apart from the effect pro-
duced by its striking magnificence, a delightful thrill of
pleasure to meet with such an edifice in such a situation .'
Yet what affinity has St Peter's to the temples or the
Coliseum, or what has the dome of a Christian church to
do near the Columna Trajana, or the Arch of Constantine ?
It is manifestly out of place ; it awakes no ideas assimi-
lating to those connected with the absorbing interest of
300 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
its city ; yet still its effect is undiminished in communi-
cating to the mind of the beholder a throbbing sensation
of delight. There is something, in fact, of surprise and
unexpectedness in the sudden change of objects, a sur-
prise gradually converted into pleasure as we trace more
intimately the relation between them, which rouses,
quickens, and cheers us. A new vein of thought unex-
pectedly crosses and intermingles with the old one, and
introduces with it fresh subjects for contemplation, and
new sources of entertainment. The mind cannot dwell
long on any particular train of thought without expe-
riencing somewhat of jaded satiety, and therefore it is
refreshed and invigorated by approaching some sparkling
and unhoped-for fountain of joy. Who is not delighted
to meet in a place utterly barren and unpromising with
something akin to his habits, and congenial to his pur-
suits } We well remember one of the most pleasurable
moments of our life was in a sudden rencontre we once
met with in London — the remains of King Richard's
Chapel, in Crosby Court. Surrounded by warehouses
and counting-houses, itself now converted into a packing-
room, this venerable relic of antiquity, with its stone
stairs and Gothic window, struck us with a force we shall
never forget. We seemed in a second to have slipped
from modern times to the days of him at whose birth
"the owl shrieked, the night-crow cried, a boding luckless
time." And the satisfaction we felt was raised in propor-
tion to our surprise. Such a revulsion in the current of
our ideas always carries with it poignancy and relish. We
lose the pleasure of expectation in instantaneous enjoy-
ment, which that very loss makes more keen. In short,
On the Chetham Library. 301
to know what pleasure is, we ought to meet with the
thing which of all others we most want, in the place
where of all others we least expect to find it. The man
who, after journeying over the desert, finds at last, in its
most arid track, a spring of fresh water, and our great
Moralist, after meeting in a Highland cottage with
Gataker's "Treatise on Lots," would both concur in
assuring us that life has few greater sweeteners than the
sudden and unannounced possession of that which is least
expected, though most desired.
We were led into these speculations by a late visit
to the library founded by Humphrey Chetham, in
Manchester; a venerable and praiseworthy institution,
which is rendered more striking by its presenting some-
what of the appearance of a college amidst the hurry
and business which are always visible in a large manu-
facturing town. It is pleasing to pass from the noise and
dissonance of a crowded street into the comparatively
still and silent court of a spacious antique mansion, with
low-browed roofs and narrow windows, apparently of the
architecture of the sixteenth century, where the only
habitants seem to be a little population of boys, in their
grotesque liveries, according well with their ancient domi-
cile. To feel that there is such a place amidst warehouses,
factories, and shops, is some satisfaction, as it shows you
are not completely immersed in trade and calculation, but
that there is still amidst wool-shops and cotton-rooms a
little Zoar set apart for better things. As you enter the
door leading towards the library, from the court on the
left, you are struck with a spacious and lofty hall — whose
appearance reminds you of ancient feasts and old English
302 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
hospitality — ^which is now appropriated as the dining-room
of the children who are educated by the bounty of the
founder. You proceed up a flight of stone stairs to the
library, where the books are disposed in compartments,
secured by wires from the encroachments of the profane ;
above and around which grin crocodiles, "harpies, and
chimeras dire," assimilating wonderfully with the other
furniture of the place. If you be anxious to learn what
these portentous things are, and to be made acquainted
with the various curiosities of the place, you must be
content to listen auribus patulis, to the dulcet modula-
tion of one of the children aforesaid ; though we should
ourselves advise other visitants, so far from employing
these juvenile nomenclators, to make use of the precau-
tions of Ulysses on entering the place, but not exactly
for the same reason. Dr Ferrier, however, used, we
believe, to recommend the song of these young sirens in
certain disorders of the tympanum. As you pass along
the two galleries, plentifully stored with the physic of the
soul, to the reading-room, you cannot but perceive that
their contents are not much similar to those of a modern
circulating library. Dapper duodecimos give place to the
venerable majesty of the folio. If you look among the
shelves, you will find, instead of the Scotch novels or
Anastasius, Wagensal's " Tela Ignea " or the works of
Erasmus. It is not the library of a modern dilettante, but
of an English scholar of the old school, in which Aquinas
and Duns Scotus may yet be seen, and by them their
worthy brothers Durandus, Bradwardine, and Bonaventura.
" De Lyra here a dreadful front extends.
And there the groaning shelves Philemon bends."
On the Chetham Library. 303
Mr Urban, the venerable father of Magazines^ here
still retains his place from prescription as alone worthy
amongst periodicals to enter into such society. We do
not wish to dispossess him, but we really think that
Blackwood should take his station by the Fathers. We
admit he is but a Neotoric, and totally unworthy of
such worshipful neighbours; yet surely the perspica-
cious visage of George Buchanan should of itself secure
him admittance amongst his compeers. It constitutes
a talisman to which, we are sure, a scholar like Mr
Allen will have respect.
There is something very substantial in the appearance
of a library of this description. Everything evidently
shows that its contents are more for use than show. No
flaunting and gaudy-coloured bindings appear among
the plain, brown, and Quaker-like contents of its shelves.
The Platonic lover of books, the admirer of exteriors,
must go elsewhere for his gratification. There is, too, a
pleasing consonancy between the place and its furniture.
The oaken panels and plain woodwork would ill assort
with morocco backs and gilt edges, and all those out-
ward vanities which make the books of the present time
appear like painted sepulchres, from the glitter without
and the emptiness within. Equality reigns amongst the
folios and duodecimos, and has clad the books with the
same impartiality that death has levelled the authors.
Nothing interposes to weaken or destroy the general
effect of the place. All within it contributes to with-
draw us to the past. The mind is left here to resign
itself to its own fancies, without being recalled by some
startling incongruity to the recollections of the present ;
304 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
and for aught which strikes us in the rapidity of a first
impression, we might imagine it the spot where Bacon
was accustomed to study, and where Raleigh delighted
to muse.
It is impossible to enter a large library, especially when
in appearance so antique as the one of which we are now
writing, without feeling an inward sensation of reverence,
and without catching some sparks of noble emulation
from the mass of mind which is scattered around you.
The very dullest and least intellectual of the sons of
earth must be conscious of the high and lofty society
into which he is intruding — a society which no combina-
tion of living talent can ever hope to parallel. Before
such a tribunal, before such a galaxy of intellect and
learning, the haughty Aristarch himself might have doffed,
without degradation, " the hat which never vailed to
human pride." We feel, as we reverence the mighty
spirits around us, that we are in some sort their brothers ;
and the very homage which we pay to their majesty is
itself the bond of our alliance. What spectacle besides
can be more wonderful } We are then where the human
mind is displayed in its highest flights, and in its weakest
inanity ; in all its shades and variations of feeling or of
subtilty ; in all its walks through science, and the cycle
of its thousand intelligences ; and in all its wide diffusion
over the provinces and principalities of its empire, calling
into action, and bringing forth its powers, like the unsheath-
ing of weapons from their scabbards ; in its acuteness, sub-
tilising to infinity; in its solidity, laying foundations of
enduring and immovable strength ; in its apprehension,
receiving all the stores of learning and knowledge ; in
On the Chetham, Library. 305
its penetration, pervading with a glance the worlds of
thought and science ; in its profundity, diving into depths
forbidden, and denied to its nature ; and in its imagination
creating, inventing, and producing in measure, inexhaus-
tible and unspent ; now marching onward with proud and
triumphant steps, now halting in its course with feeble
tardiness — now deviating into byroads struck out by
its own admirable ingenuity, yet still ever great in its
extravagances, dignified in its perversions, memorable in
its debasement.
Others may delightedly visit in veneration the tombs
of authors, but to us their noblest mausoleum appears
to be in a library where they are enshrined amongst a
company of kindred and congenial souls. The one can
but testify their mortality, but he who meets them in
the other will know they are immortal. Westminster
Abbey can present nothing so touching, yet so elevating,
so inspiring, yet so sad, as the Bodleian. There we see
works which have outlived monuments and pyramids,
still surviving to the glory of their authors in unspent
and undiminished youth. Others we see, for which their
writers, the martyrs of fame, have suffered mental tor-
ment and bodily maceration, and all to subsist "like
Hippocrates's patients, and Achilles's horses in Homer,
under naked nominations," and occupy, untouched and
unregarded, a corner in a library. Others which, after
experiencing in their time a meed of rigid indifference
and neglect, have now obtained Kxiy/ta es aet in the rolls
of Fame ; and others the delight and admiration of their
contemporaries, which now remain but to teach us the
instructive lesson, that —
X
3o6 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
" When Fame's loud trump hath blown her deepest blast,
Though loud the sound, the echo dies at last ;
And Glory, like the phcenix 'midst her fires,
Exhales her odours, blazes, and expires."
Many are the lofty and gratifying thoughts and con-
templations which a visit to a library will give rise to.
It is there where the mind wakes into a consciousness of
its own powers and capabilities, and burns to measure its
strength with the heroes of literature, the mighty masters
of science. It is there that the appetite for knowledge,
which, however it may lie dormant awhile, can never be
entirely extinguished, sharpens and increases in beholding
the food for which it longs, and prepares for a full and
plenary enjoyment of the exhaustless banquet before it.
It is there that the soul expands with a consciousness of
the task it has to overcome, and the matter it has to
grapple with ; and rises with proud and confident superi-
ority to the mastery of knowledge in all her cells. It is
there that one feels a desire to shut out the world and
its concerns, and live like Magliabecchi in the Vatican,
buried in books, to contract an intimacy with every one of
the thousands of writers deposited in its shelves — poets, v v v
orators, historians, philosophers, and divines, and receive
all their stores of thought and science, though but as the
water which passes through the urns of the Danaides. It
is there that the painful feeling of the impossibility of
satisfying the wishes of the soul is lately and reluctantly
acknowledged ; and it is there we should be almost led,
were it not for the hope of the fruition of our desires in a
future state, to deem that inexplicable and unassuageable
craving after knowledge, which is implanted in our natures,
On the Chetkam Lzdrary. 307
to be given us but as a cruel mockery and tantalising
delusion.
But to return to our subject-matter. From the library
you pass into the reading-room, not, however, without
having to encounter a formidable array of sights and
monsters, more grotesque even than those which appalled
the stout heart of the Trojan prince in his descent to hell.
There are seals and hairy men, speaking-trumpets and
snakes, and fishes and alligators, and " such small deer,"
not forgetting skeletons preserved in bottles, and Oliver
Cromwell's sword. This last great acquisition, now laid up
in peace, may, indeed, exclaim that Time has made it
acquainted with strange bedfellows. Yet it is considered
a trophy of no small consequence in the place. Many a
stare of vacant wonderment has been directed to it by the
rustics, in their holiday visitations ; and even the juvenile
stentors before alluded to, in doling out the bead-roll of
their chantings, attest its high importance by a propor-
tionate exaltation of voice. Through a door studded with
nails in the ancient fashion, you pass into the reading-
room, an antique apartment, with oaken casements, massive
chairs of such heaviness and contexture as utterly to
defy all muscular power, and tables of make and work-
manship truly patriarchal, one of which, you are informed
by your guide, is composed of as many pieces as there are
days in a year — three hundred and sixty-five. Around are
disposed dusky-looking portraits of eminent divines who
have been born in or near Manchester — ^Whitaker, Nowell,*
* It is not, perhaps, generally known that we owe the original of bottled
ale to the person who compiled the famous catechism. Thus, however,
relateth one of his biographers : "Without offence, it may be remembered,
3o8 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Bolton, and Bradford, of the latter of whom the facetious
Fuller saith, " He was a most holy and mortified man, who
secretly in his closet would so weep for his sins, one would
have thought he would never have smiled again, and then
appearing in public, he would be so harmlessly pleasant,
one would think he had never wept before." No such
marks of celestial benignity are here visible in his counte-
nance ; he looks truly as grim-visaged as Herod himself in
the " Massacre of the Innocents." Over the fireplace, sur-
ijnounted by his coat-of-arms, is the portrait of Humphrey
Chetham himself, the charitable "dealer in Manchester
commodities," as he has been called, to whose beneficence
this excellent institution is owing. Fashions and manners
have wonderfully changed. What would the spruce and
dapper warehousemen of the present day think of such an
apparition, were they to see him passing down Cannon
Street ; or what would their masters, to hear of a Man-
chester merchant who exercised himself in the reading of
godly divines.' He appears, indeed, a marvellous staid
personage, somewhat like the old man in Terence —
" Confidens catus —
Tristis severitas inest in vultu.''
The windows in this room are in unison with the rest of
its structure, and though they do not absolutely " exclude
the light," yet there is a certain degree of dimness in it,
which does not ill-agree with the dark panels and beams
by which it is encased and overhung. At the further end
that leaving a bottle of ale, when fishing, in the grass, he found it some days
afterwards no bottle but a gun, such the sound at the opening thereof." And
this is believed (Casualty is mother of more invention than Industry) the
origin of bottled ale in England,
On the Chetham Library. 309
is a recess, which being almost windowed round, is ren-
dered a little lightsomer than the other parts of the room.
It is pleasant to sit in this sequestered nook, the locus
lenedictus of this ancient place, and view from thence the
gallery with its shelves of books, sinking by degrees into
duskiness, or to watch from the window the little crowd
below, performing their evolutions in no very silent key,
and to listen, while the sun strikes on the oaken table
before you, to the chimes of the Collegiate Church, falling
full and audible on the ear. Still pleasanter is it to resign
the mind to those fantasies which, in a place like this, are
wont to rise and steal upon it with a soft but potent
fascination, and to suffer the imagination to raise up its
visions of the worthies of the olden time. To embody
and impersonate our forefathers, while we are tarrying in
their edifice ; and while we are drinking " at the pure wells
of English undefiled," to picture to ourselves the worthies
who stood and guarded at its fountain. To create and
call forth figures for our sport, like those in the " Tempest,"
airy and unsubstantial, clad in ruffs and doublets, and
passing by us with stiff mien and haughty stateliness ;
introducing to our eyes a succession of " maskings, mum-
meries, entertainments, jubilees, tilts and tournaments,
trophies, triumphs, and plays," till we can see the whole
court of Elizabeth, — the graceful Sir Christopher Hatton
" Lead the brawls.
While seals and maces dance before him."
We are transported visibly to the times when the
" Euphues " and the " Arcadia " were the light reading of
maids of honour, when queens harangued universities in
3 1 o Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Latin, and kings amused themselves by writing of de-
monology and tobacco. The theological tomes around
us seem to communicate something of their influence
to us, and to dip us " five fathom deep " in the contro-
versies of the times. We can almost join with alacrity
in the crusade against the Beast, " who had filled the
world with her abominations," and sally out with bishops
for our leaders, and a ponderous folio for our armour of
proof.
The works around us naturally bring their authors
before our eyes. We can see Hooker in his quiet country
parsonage, beholding " God's blessings spring out of his
mother earth, and eating his own bread in peace and
privacy." We can see Sidney amongst the shades of
Penshurst writing on poetry, with all the enthusiasm of a
poet, and proving that " poesie is full of virtue, breeding
delightfulness, and void of no gift that ought to'^be in the
noble name of learning." We can see Bacon in his closet,
conceiving in his mighty mind the greatest birth of time,
and, unbent by misfortune, and undejected by disgrace,
illuminating philosophy "with all the weight of matter,
worth of subject, soundness of argument, life of invention,
and depth of judgment." We can see Selden amidst bulls,
breviats, antiphoners, and monkish manuscripts, laying up
the stores of his vast learning, and awaiting from pos-
terity the rewards which were denied him by a prejudiced
clergy. We can be present with Burton, whilst enjoying
he delights of voluntary solitariness, and walking alone in
some grove, between wood and water, by a brook-side, to
meditate upon some delightsome subject, and hear him
declaring in ecstasy, "What an incomparable delight it is
On the Chetham Library. 311
so to melancholise and build castles in the air ! " And last,
though second to none of his contemporaries, we can be
witness to the lonely musings of him "who, untamed in
war, and indefatigable in literature, as inexhaustible in
ideas as exploits, after having brought a new world to
light, wrote the history of the old in a prison."
Of all human enjoyments, the pleasure of intercourse
with antiquity is the most complete. The past is in itself
a treasure. The same feeling which leads us back to the
pleasing recollections of infancy, carries us still further
along the mighty waste of time. The intenseness of per-
sonal acquaintance can hardly exceed that vivid reality
which is produced by the combination of history and
fancy. Like young Harry Bertram breathing the air of
Ellangowan, we seem in our intercourse with ancient times
and personages to be entering upon a theatre known to us
in some former stage of existence, and it dawns upon us
with the dim but delightful shadowiness of a long-inter-
posed acquaintance. The readiness with which we array and
furnish, with the incidents of living beings, the inhabitants
of the silent grave, and the scarcely questionable air of life
and existence which we can throw around their appear-
ance, would almost induce us to believe that our imagina-
tions can hardly be baseless and empty, and that the
forms which are suggested by our fancy must have been
cast originally in the moulds of memory. Our knowledge,
in truth, seems, according to the Platonic doctrine, but
remembrance, and our new impressions but "the colour-
ing of old stamps, which stood pale in the soul before."
There is something in " hoar antiquity " itself wonderfully
striking. Much it has of mild interest, but more of awe
312 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
and sublimity. The alternation of light and shade by
which it is chequered, like a plain, which in one part glows
with the beams of the sun, and in another is darkened by
an interposed cloud ; the rolling of the mighty current of
years, mouldering and destroying empires and citadels ;
" the dim indistinction with which all things are lapt in the
bundle of time ; " the vast distance which the eye aches to
measure ; the memorable actions, achievements, persons,
and places, which it has covered as if with a shroud ; the
wonderful intermixture it presents of savageness and
refinement, of brutality and wisdom, of atrocity and
magnanimity, of poverty and splendour, of high aspiration
and grovelling debasement, must contribute to make it a
pageant varied, magnificent, and imposing* Is there not
* The following curious recapitulation of the events of ancient
history is taken from Richard Carpenter's " Experience, History, and
Divinitie." It is very striking, and not, perhaps, generally known.
The author was twice a Protestant, and twice a Papist, and ended, we
believe, like Gibbon, with being nothing at all : " This world hath
bin alwayes a passenger ; for, it hath passed from age to age, through
so many hundred generations, by them, and from them to us. Adam
lived awhile, to eat an apple and to teach his posterity to sinne and
to dye ; and the world passed by him. Caine lived awhile, to kill
his honest brother Abel, and to bury him in the sands, as if God
could not have found him, or the winde have discovered what was
done, and afterwards to be haunted with frightful apparitions, and to
be the first vagabond ; and the world passed by him. Noah lived
awhile, to see a great flood, and the whole world sinke under water ;
to see the weary birds drop amongst the waves, and men stifled on
the tops of trees and mountaines ; and the world passed by him.
David lived awhile, to be caught with a vaine representation, and to
commit adultery ; to command murther, and afterwards to lament,
and call himselfe sinner ; and when he had done so, the world shuffed
On the Che t ham Library. 313
something in the very names of Nimrod and Cambyses, of
Babylon, Tyre, and Carthage, of Sidon and Thebes, of
Assaracus, Herostratus, and Achilles, which strikes the
mind with a sensation which no words can explain ? Do
we not feel, on seeing the pyramids, arches, obelisks, and
monuments of other times, a something which is inexpli-
cable and incommunicable, but composed, nevertheless, of
all the noblest elements of the soul, of what in admiration
is most fervent, in pity most deep, in imagination most
intense, in contemplation most sublime ? There is a
pleasure, an intellectual zest, a high and genial delight
him off, and passed by him. Solomon Kved awhile, to sit like a man
upon his royaU throne, as it were guarded with lyons ; and to love
counterfeit pictures in the faces of strange women j and while he was
looking babies in their eyes, the world stole away and passed by King
Solomon, and all his glory. Judas lived awhile, to handle a purse ;
and, as an old author writes, to kill his father, to marry his mother, to
betray his master, and to hang himself; and the world turned round
as well as he, and passed by the traytor. The Jews lived awhile, to
crucify him who had chosen them for his onely people out of all the
world, and quickly after the world, weary of them, passed by them,
and their commonwealth. The old Romanes lived awhile, to worship
wood and stones, to talk a little of Jupiter, Apollo, Venus, Mercury,
and to gaze upon a great statue of Hercules, and cry, hee was a
mighty man ; and while they stood gazing and looking another way,
the world passed by them and their great empire. The Papists lived
awhile, to keepe time with dropping beads, or rather to lose it ; to
tell most wonderfull stories of miracles, and in the midst of a story,
the world passes by them, and turnes them into a story. The Jesuits
live awhile, to be called religious men and holy fathers ; to frame a
face, to be very good and godly in the outside ; to vex and disquiet
princes ; and the world at length finding them to be dissem^blers,
dissembles with them also, and looking friendly upon them, passes
by them."
3 1 4 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
and enjoyment in such a scene, which once conceived, we
cannot ever permit to be forgotten. What are the visions
of the future to meditations so produced ? They may
interest our human feelings more, but can they fill, occupy,
and expand the mind like those of the past ? The pro-
spective creatures of fancy may for awhile float before
our eyes, and dazzle us with their glittering hues and
glowing brilliancy; but they all die away, decay and
vanish before that deeper, grander, most potent and
efficacious spirit of imagination, which broods over the
magnificence of the past, which resides amidst the marble
wastes of Tadmor and the " mighty nations of the dead,"
which gives even to the future a more vivid lustre from its
reflection, and which is, in fine, that eternal and inex-
haustible fountain from which History catches her colour-
ing and Poetry lights her flame.
But we have involuntarily strayed from our subject,
and it is now time for us to conclude. If thy footsteps
lead thee, good reader, to the venerable place which has
suggested these speculations, let us advise thee to amuse
thyself with something suitable, and not incongruous with
its character. There is a fitness in all things. There are
other places for perusing the ephemeral productions of the
day — circulating libraries for novels, and commercial rooms
for newspapers. If these be the food for which thy mind
is most disposed, to such places be thy walks confined.
But go not to the library of Humphrey Chetham without
opening one of the " time-honoured guests." If classical
learning be the study most gratifying to thy palate, take
down the Basil edition of Horace, with the notes of eighty
commentators, and read through the commentaries on the
On the Chetham Library. 315
first ode, thou wilt find it no very easy or despatchable
matter. If divinity be thy pursuit, let one of the compen-
dious folios of Caryl on Job minister to thy amusement, and
thus conduce to thy attainment of that virtue of which Job
was so eminently the possessor. If natural history pre-
sent more attractions to thee than classical learning or
divinity, Ulysses Aldrovandus will find thee employment
enough, without resorting to the later publications of
Pennant or Buffon. But should thy thoughts, good reader,
have a different direction, and all these studies be less
agreeable to thee than the study of light reading, take
with thee Pharamond to thy corner, or that edifying and
moral work Mat. Ingelo's " Bentivoglio and Urania ; "
and so needest thou have no fear of being too violently
interested in thy subject to leave off with pleasure. What
is that deep and forcible interest which chains you to a
book, to the delightful equability to be enjoyed in the
perusal of works like these .■' There is, too, another
advantage. You cannot get through them too soon.
How often do we feel, in perusing the Scotch novels, the
unpleasant reflection that we are getting nearer the end —
the end of our book and the end of our pleasure. Here,
however, the reader may range secure, undisturbed by any
such unpleasant anticipations. But if, on the contrary,
thou visitest the Chetham Library as a menagerie, spec-
tacle, and show, as a collection of snakes, skeletons,
porpoises, and crocodiles ; or if thou enterest it in the
same manner, and for the same purposes, as thou wouldst
enter a lounging-room or a fashionable bookseller's shop,
then, though we will not wish unto thee the ass's ears of
Midas, or those other calamities which are mentioned by
3i6 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
the eloquent defender of poetry, yet "thus much curse"
must we send thee on behalf of the founder, that thou
mayest be confined amongst the productions of the
Minerva press, and be kept on prison allowance till thou
hast read them through.
II.
OLD MANCHESTER AND ITS WORTHIES.
By James Croston, F.S.A.
It has been said that the history of a nation is but a
record of the actions of its people — unfortunately, but too
often a record of " the pride and pomp and circumstance
of war," describing with graphic detail wars that have
desolated the earth, and crimes that have disgraced
humanity ; and exalting, at the expense of public virtue,
the actions of ambitious warriors and intriguing statesmen,
until, with a preposterous joy and guilty admiration, we
are led to exult in the successes of the one, and revere the
memory of the other. But we should ever remember that
" Peace hath her victories,
Not less renowned than war,"
and much as we may delight to dwell on the memories
of those who have exhibited wisdom or capacity in the
senate, or courage and decision in the field, we regard with
feelings of equal if not greater veneration those illustrious
worthies who, if they have played a less prominent part,
have occupied a not less useful position in the drama
of life, and who still live among us in the record of their
lives, bequeathing to posterity an enduring source of good
3 1 8 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
in the bright examples they afford of all that is true and
honourable and manly in character, and of those moral
and social virtues which alike adorn and ennoble our
common nature— examples that beam with a celestial
splendour, comforting, cheering, and encouraging the
labourer in the cause of humanity and civil progress. The
history of our country is studded over as " with patines of
bright gold " with such illustrious examples, and we are
not sure whether it is not more in the lives of England's
Worthies than in the lives of England's Warriors that we
may discover the true secret of England's greatness ; in
them we see, as vital realities, the principles by which
society is moved and the energies it wields gathered
together and in active operation.
Though our good old town may not be able to count
among her sons many who have achieved historic great-
ness, yet if we look back along the dim vista of antiquity,
we shall find a long line of illustrious worthies, of whom
we may be justly proud — men who have been eminent for
their wisdom and courage and benevolence — who have
acquired undying fame by their learning and scientific
attainments, and who, under God's providence, have not
only been instrumental in raising to a proud pre-eminence
the place in which they dwelt, but have been in a great de-
gree the architects of their country's greatness. It is some-
times worth while to " remember the days of old," and to
cast our thoughts back to the times of the generations that
are past ; and although in the retrospect there may be
much that we must deprecate and condemn, we shall find
much also that is morally good and dear and honoured to
our every feeling of existence. In the contemplation of
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 3 1 9
those flashes of glorious heroism and those ennobling
virtues which will ever and anon present themselves to our
gaze, we may be led not only to cherish more and more
the memory of our ancestors, and to love the habitations
where they dwelt, but an increased desire may be awakened
in us to emulate whatever is good and noble and praise-
worthy in their character, and to imitate that earnestness
of spirit which is ever seeking for new fields of moral
victory, so that we may continue to the youth of succeed-
ing ages that bright example of good works and faith in
humanity's moral and physical progress which they have
bequeathed to us.
We shall endeavour to incorporate with our little gos-
siping biographies a few verbal delineations of ancient
Manchester, so that while we make acquaintance with
some of these old local celebrities, we may realise in some
degree the scenes in which they lived and moved and had
their being, and so trace the gradual progress and improve-
ment of our good old town from the few rude wattled huts
of the aboriginal Britons, to the vast aggregation of mills
and workshops and palatial buildings that the world calls
Manchester. And here we must ask the reader to forget
the present, and go back with us in imagination for a period
of wellnigh two thousand years. The vision, it is true, is
only shadowy and indistinct, seen through the long dis-
tance that intervenes ; but carrying the mind back to those
remote regions of antiquity, let us contemplate the scene
that meets our fancied view. It is Manchester — Man-
chester in the darkest period of its history. The Medlock,
now an unpolluted stream, glides pleasantly along, and
near to its confluence with the Irwell there rises a steep
320 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
rocky bank, on the summit of which is a space of some
twelve or thirteen acres that has been cleared from the
surrounding forest ; a rampart bounds the north side, and
on the west it is protected by a deep ditch, while the river
forms a natural barrier on the south. The thick forest of
Ardven or Arden affords an ample shelter from the incle-
ment winds of the north, and in the opposite direction it is
open to the genial influences of the southern sun, — local
advantages that appear to have been generally recognised
by the ancient Britons in the construction of their camps.
Within the area a few huts, rudely constructed of mud
and wattles, and covered with the skins of beasts, bear
evidence of man's existence, and in these we recognise the
old British town oi Maneettion, the place of tents ox place of
encampment, the precursor of a city destined in after-ages
to become the metropolis of industry, the workshop of the
world. As we look more closely into the picture, we
discern the naked woad-stained forms of the early settlers
— men tall in stature and savage in mien, with rough skins
thrown across their shoulders, and their long yellow hair
streaming loosely down their backs; ardent, imaginative,
brave ; armed with javelin and spear, spurning all con-
trol, and despising every exercise save that of the chase
or the battle-field. Dense forests of oak — primeval mon-
archs that have budded and flourished and shed their
leaves through centuries of silent solitude — stretch away
on every hand, the haunt of the wolf* and the wild boar;
and instead of the cheerful hum of industry, and the din
of machinery, a death-like silence prevails, broken only
at intervals by the sound of the huntsman tracking his
prey through the thick undergrowth, or pursuing the
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 3 2 1
chase along the echoing banks of the Irk, the Irwell, or
the Medlock.
" Hunter and warrior, here he comes ! a form
Browned by the sun, and battered by the storm ;
A spear his weapon, and a skin his vest ;
His home a cave hewn in the mountain's breast.
His mate, more melancholy, if less wild.
Bearing upon her back their unclad child.
Through the woods gliding, cautiously and slow,
They pick the scanty fruitage as they go.
At length upon the river's brink they part.
For, lo ! his eye tracks far the startled hart ;
And with a shout, a bound, its mazy flight
He follows fast, and keeps it still in sight.
At first the dale they scour, then climb the hill,
'Neath the bright burning noonday panting still ;
And on the morrow he returns to tell
How twilight and his spear together fell
Upon his prey remote, by some lone forest well."
But a change comes over the spirit of the dream,
Gradually the view dissolves and slowly fades away.
Another dawns upon the scene. A sound of distant strife
breaks faintly upon the ear, there is a rumbling of war-
chariots and the hollow tramp of legidnaries ; in a moment
the scene is alive with the forms of men hurrying to and
fro, brandishing their javelins in impatient haste to meet
the coming foe. Meanwhile the conquering eagles of
imperial Rome are seen advancing, cohort follows cohort,
and legion succeeds to legion ; with steady pace and
measured tread they come. There is a shock of mortal
combat, the echoing clang of arms and the fell shout of war.
Briton and Roman are struggling together for conquest
and for life. It is over — undisciplined valour yields to
superior military skill, and the brave and heroic Britons,
Y
32 2 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
defeated but not subdued, are compelled to retire within
the fastnesses of their native woods, leaving the rocky
slopes of the Medlock crimsoned with the life-blood of a
people who, if they knew not how to fight, knew at least
how valiant men should die.
The earlier invasions of the Caesars scarcely affected the
northern tribes, and it was not until about the year 78 that
Agricola succeeded in carrying the Roman arms to those
parts of Britain which had not as yet been brought in
subjection to the imperial rule. With the summer of that
year terminated the British period of Mancenion! s history.
The Romans, after an obstinate struggle, possessed
themselves of the town, and placed in it a garrison of
foreign auxiliaries — a cohort raised in Friesland — ^with a
vexillatio or cavalry troop of Rhaetian and Norician
auxiliaries. The newcomers, casting aside the sword and
buckler, at once set about erecting from the old materials
a fortress on the Roman plan, some fragmentary remains
of which may still be seen on what is known as Castlefield.
Military ways were formed, and several subordinate forts
were erected for the protection of cattle in the outlying
districts, and the better securitj'- of convoys upon the roads.
Traces of these forts may still be discerned at Hyle Wood,
near Castle Irwell, in Lower Broughton ; at Castle Hill, on
the left-hand side of the road, near Singleton Brook ; at a
place called Raineshow, on Kersal Moor ; and at a spot a
little above the Grovq Inn, on the Bury New Road, the site
of which is still recalled by the names of Camp Street and
Roman Road Terrace. Other stations or castra were
established on the banks of the Mersey at Stockport and
Stretford.
Old Manchester andits Worthies. 323
Agricola, having subjugated the half-savage dwellers of
the ancient Mancenion, became a pacificator and lawgiver,
and taught them arts and civilisation. Roman manners
and customs were more or less adopted, and with them, it
is to be feared, vices of which before our Celtic forefathers
knew not of. To check the spirit of independence kept
alive in the uncivilised abodes of deserted forests, the con-
quered were invited to leave their retreats in the woods
and swamps, and to form themselves into little communi-
ties around the Roman station ; and in this way a colony-
sprang up on the north side of the old settlement, which
received the name of Aldport, or the Old Town, the site
of which is still recalled by the name of Alport-town, in
Deansgate.
Mancenion now received the Latinised appellation of
Mancunium or Mamucium. All the trades necessary for
supplying the wants of the new occupiers were carried on
in the vicinity- of the station. A water-mill was erected
on the rocky channel of the Medlock at Knot Mill ; that
requisite, a commune furnum, or common bakehouse, was
established ; and it is supposed that a pottery was also
in existence, many sepulchral vessels and other remains,
apparently of local manufacture, having been discovered
in the locality. Many relics of the period of Roman occu-
pation have been dug up within the present century ; and
amongst them the exceedingly beautiful bronze statuette
of Jupiter Stator, an engraving of which is given on another
page.
For wellnigh four hundred years the Roman wrought
and ruled in Britain, leaving the distinctive peculiarities of
his way of living and governing stamped upon the country.
324 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
But destiny had other things in store, and the proud and
unwieldy Empire of Rome, having performed its part in
the world's history, is now hastening to decay. With diffi-
culty the vaunted mistress of the world now grasps her
own. Pierced by barbarian hordes, torn by intestine wars,
weakened at heart and tottering to her ruin, her last
legions have been recalled for her own defence, and Roman
Mancunium is abandoned, a prey to the northern savages
— the Picts and Scots — who come, as Gildas relates, " like
hungry and ravening wolves rushing with greedy jaws
upon the fold."
" Yet, once again, a change — and lo !
The Roman even himself must go ;
While Dane and Saxon scatter wide
Each remnant of his power and pride."
Enervated by long submission to the Roman yoke,
deprived of the protection of the forces of the Empire,
the flower of her youth drafted away to swell the armies
of the Emperors, Mancunium was left in a state of utter
defencelessness, and speedily became a prey to the warlike
hordes that came pouring in from the north. A period of
anarchy and confusion followed, and the town again became
the scene of fierce war and angry passion, of conquest and
oppression, of barbaric rudeness and pagan splendour.
For the protection of the town the Roman fortification at
Castlefield was strengthened ; but as the Roman model of
a fortress did not suit the military taste of the Britons, a
large building of stone was reared as a more formidable
barrier against assault, and it is at this period that Man-
chester is supposed to have first boasted the possession of
a rude castle. Unable, however, to cope with their foes,
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 325
and deprived of all help from their former protectors, the
unhappy Britons imprudently invited the aid of the Saxons
to deliver them from the ravages and depredations of their
oppressors. The succour asked for was promptly given ;
but the tenacious Saxon, having once obtained a footing,
was unwilling to loose his hold, and no sooner had he
subdued the Caledonians than he set up a claim to, and
forcibly established himself in possession of, the country of
the Britons. A desperate resistance was offered, and the
newcomers had to win their way inch by inch; but win
they did, nor ceased they until the whole country lying
between the Mersey and the Humber, and stretching
away as far north as the Firth of Forth, had owned their
supremacy.
The Saxons became masters of Lancashire about the
year 488, when they seized the British fortress in Castle-
field, and gave the command of it to one Tarquin. The
perfidious cruelty of the foreign usurpers excited the
resentment of the Britons, and the renowned King Arthur,
in his resistance to the Saxon yoke, was distinguished by
the most heroic devotion to the cause of his country.
It is to this period that the mythic story of King Arthur
and the Knights of the Round Table, related in " La Morte
d'Arthur," belongs. The Torquin, or Tarquin, as he is
therein named, is said by tradition to have. been a monster
of gigantic stature and prodigious strength, who disgraced
his courage by his brutality. He had by treachery gained
possession of the fortified Castle of Manchester, where he
fixed his abode, and where it is related he kept no less
than sixty-four brave knights in ignominious bondage until
he was eventually vanquished by Sir Lancelot du Lake.
326 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
King of Cheshire, and one of the knights of Arthur's
Round Table, who retook the Castle of Manchester and
slew its tyrannous commander.
We are not going to claim for the giant Tarquin a posi-
tion among the " worthies " of Manchester, but as he hap-
pens to be the earliest notability of whom we have any
record, he is on that ground, at least, entitled to some
attention. In the old Chronicle of Manchester, written by
Hollingworth some two centuries ago, we have the follow-
ing quaint account of this doughty Saxon : — " It is said that
Sir Tarquine, a stout enemie of King Arthur, kept the
castle, and neere to the ford in Medlock, about Mabhouse,
hung a basin, on which basin whosoever did strike, Sir
Tarquine or some of his company would come forth and
fight with him, and that Sir Launcelot du Lake, a knight
of King Arthur's Round Table, did beate upon the basin,
fought with Tarquine, killed him, and possessed himself of
the castle, and loosed the prisoners."
The colony of Saxons that settled with their chief in
Manchester possessed themselves of the houses already
erected and the lands already cultivated, and the van-
quished Britons were left to construct habitations for them-
selves. In this way the surrounding country began to be
reclaimed and brought under cultivation ; the immediately
adjacent districts were cleared of their primeval oaks, and
the wild beasts that inhabited them were dislodged to a
greater distance. Salford, Cheetham, Newton, Ardwick,
and Chorlton-on-Medlock were the districts first formed,
and gradually the more remote townships of Rusholme,
Withington, Stretford, Gorton, and Droylsden arose. As
the Romans had converted the British name of the place.
Old Manchester audits Worthies. 327
Mancenion, into Mancunium, so now the Saxons changed it
into Manige-ceaster or Manchester, an old name with a new
signification — the city of men — by which it has ever since
been known.
Of the condition of Manchester for a century or more
after the departure of the Romans little is known, though
it would seem to have increased considerably in impor-
tance. We learn from the Saxon Chronicle that about
the year 617 Edwin King of Northumbria "subdued all
Britain," from which it may be inferred that Manige-ceaster
was included in her possessions ; and some sixty years
later it was for a time a royal residence, Queen Ethel-
burga, the consort of Ina King of Wessex, having in 689
selected it as her abode whilst her husband was upon
an expedition against the princes of North Wales ;
and here Ina himself, with Adelard his cousin, continued
for about three months after his successful campaign
in Wales.
Manchester continued under the Saxon rule for a period
of two hundred years or more, when it was doomed to
pass through the fiery ordeal of a foreign invasion more
dreadful than any it had previously encountered. Under
the banner of the Black Raven the sea-kings and jarls of
the North, with their piratical multitudes, overran the
country, and for more than a century our good old town
was made the constant scene of their devastation and
slaughter.
" What time the Raven flapped his gory wing.
And scoured the White Horse o'er this harried realm ;
His crowded galley brought the dread Viking,
Lust at his prow, and rapine at the helm.
328 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
" A conquering rabble ravaged o'er these lands,
Urged by Valhalla's maidens to the strife,
With joyous hearts they left their yellow strands,
That in the battle they might yield up life."
During these unwelcome intrusions the town suffered
severely, and is said to have been wellnigh depopulated.
Tradition says that the Nicker Ditch, a trench which
flows between Reddish and Gorton, on the southerly side
of the town, was constructed at this time as a defence
against the assaults of the Northmen ; and it is affirmed,
though with small probability of truth, that Reddish or
Red-ditch, Gorton or Gore-town, and Denton or Dane-
town, as also DanC'Shut, Dane-heys, Dane-head, and Dane-
wood, in the same locality, commemorate a sanguinary
encounter between the Anglo-Saxons and the Danish
invaders.
About the year 920, Edward the Elder, King, first, of
the West Saxons, and then of the Mercians, repaired the
town, which had remained in a ruinous condition from its
destruction by the Danes, and at the same time, it is said,
rebuilt the castle. Nearly a century later, Canute as we
call him, or Knut, as his name was anciently pronounced,
marched a powerful army against the Prince of Cumber-
land and the King of Scotland, and in the course of his
march through the north-western counties he passed
through Manchester. There is a popularly - received
tradition, that on his journey he gave his name to the
mill upon the Medlock to which we have already referred.
That the soil of our town has been actually trodden by
the mightiest and most renowned of those "old sea-
kings".^— a monarch before whom the Saxon dynasty
Old Manchester andits Worthies. 329
quailed, and whose courtiers believed that his word was
powerful enough to stay the surges of the ocean— there
can scarcely be a doubt, but that he actually gave name
to the mill, as the popular tale affirms, may well be
questioned.
After the expulsion of the Danes, the Saxon lord, or
thegn, as he was called, selected for himself a stronger
position on the high ground near the confluence of the
Irk with the Irwell, about a mile to the north of the old
settlement, and built himself a fortified residence on the
site of the present Chetham Hospital and Library. The
position was further strengthened by a deep ditch or moat,
that ran transversely from the Irk to the Irwell, following
the course of the present Todd Street, Hanging Ditch,
and Cateaton Street. A population gathered round the
new centre, and by degrees the town extended from the
Aldport, or Old Town, which had become much dilapi-
dated by incessant warfare and the lapse of time, along
Deansgate towards Aca's Field, now St Ann's Square,
and the Market Place.
For the convenience of his retainers and the burghers
generally, the lord erected a mill on the fosse or ditch sur-
rounding the manorial residence, at a point midway down
Cateaton Street ; the road to it was called the Millgate —
now the Old Millgate ; and when in later times another
mill was erected on the banks of the Irk, the approach, to
distinguish it, was designated the Long Millgate. A draw-
bridge was thrown over the fosse, called the Hanging Bridge,
which in later times was succeeded by one of stone, the
arches of which remain at the present day. That impor-
tant functionary in every Saxon colony, the armourer or
330 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
smith, had a forge erected on the banks of the Irwell, near
the end of Deansgate; the place was called the Smithy
Bank, and it is still recalled by the name of Smithy Door.
It is not known with certainty at what time the dwellers
in Saxon Manchester were induced to discard their idols
and embrace the doctrine of the Cross, but in all proba-
bility it would be between the years 625 and 631, when
Paulinus, the great apostle of the North, under the auspices
of Edwin King of Northumbria and his wife Ethelburga,
preached throughout the provinces of Deira and Bernicia ;
certain it is that, at the time the Doomsday Book was
compiled, Manchester could boast the possession of two
churches, one dedicated to St Michael and -the other to
St Mary, the only churches of which any mention is
made as then existing in the Salford hundred — a tract
of country at that time consisting for the most part of
moss, moorland, and forest.
Antiquaries are a good deal divided in opinion as to the
position these two churches occupied. Whittaker affirms
that St Michael's was erected at Aldport, and that when the
Saxon chief removed his abode to a more northerly site at
the confluence of the Irk and the Irwell, the town followed
in the same direction, and a new church, dedicated to St
Mary, was then erected in Aca's Field, and near the top of
the present St Mary's Gate. All this, however, is mere
surmise, without any evidence of a reliable nature to
support it. When we remember the large area the parish
of Manchester then embraced, it seems hardly likely that
a second church should have been erected in such close
proximity to the old one, except upon the supposition
that it had fallen into decay during those fierce contests of
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 33 x
which Manchester was so often the scene. Ashton-under-
Lyne was at this time within the limits of the parish, and
it has been suggested that one of the churches named
on the survey may have been located there ; whilst other
antiquaries incline to the opinion that the religious estab-
lishment at Eccles was referred to.
The rectorial residence stood upon the west side of the
(deep ravine or dene, called the Denegate or Deansgate, on
a portion of the land which to this day bears the name of
the Parsonage. The site is now occupied by a building of
considerable antiquity, belonging to the Dean and Chapter,
and which is believed to have continued the parsonage
or rectorial residence until the early part of the fifteenth
century, when the rector of Manchester was exalted to
the dignity of a warden, and the present building of the
college was founded as a more fitting residence. The
old parsonage has in the course of ages undergone great
alterations, but sufficient remains to enable us to form-
some idea of its external form and internal disposition :
it is now in the occupation of Mr Wallis, draper. The
walls of one of the upper rooms is still covered with oaken
panelling, and in one of the apartments is an elaborately
carved oak chimney-piece of undoubted antiquity.
We pass by the periods of Danish spoliation and
Norman conquest. From these times down to the begin-
ning of the fifteenth century the history of Manchester
is little more than a blank ; but though presenting few
incidents worthy of commemoration, the town itself had
become much more populous, and the prosperity of the
people had greatly increased. Here, as in other places,
the husbandman was becoming an artisan, the artisan a
332 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
yeoman, and the yeoman a wealthy trader. The Flemish
manufactures and woollen trade, too, had taken deep root
in the town ; indeed, so early as the reign of Edward the
Second, we find that a mill for dyeing goods existed on the
banks of the Irk, and a few years later one for fulling was
erected ; and so by degrees the British settlement of former
times became a military station of the Roman era ; the
Roman station became a Saxon village, which grew and
increased in importance until it became a large and thriving
mercantile town, and the centre of an extensive parish.
Fuller relates in his quaint way the manner in which
the woollen manufacture first took root in this country.
Edward the Third, he tells us, sent emissaries over, who
ingratiated themselves with such Flemings as were masters
of their trade but not of themselves. They were told how
greatly they would benefit themselves if only they would
come over to England, bringing with them their craft and
mystery, which would secure a welcome in all places.
The assurance was given that "they would feed on fat
beef and mutton, till nothing but their fulness should stint
their stomachs ; their beds should be good, and their bed-
fellows better, seeing the richest yeomen in England would
not disdain to marry their daughters to them, and such
was the beauty of the English maidens that the most
envious foreigners could not but commend them." Allured
by these temptations, and especially, as it would seem, by
the hope of mating with the " Lancashire witches," who
were then famed for their beauty,' a colony of Flemish
emigrants settled on the banks of the Irwell, and spread
themselves along the Lancashire valleys, laying the foun-
dation for that industry which has raised Manchester to
Old Manchester andits Worthies. 333
such a pre-eminence, and made it the commercial capital
of the Empire. We are apt to boast of the position our
country holds among the nations of the world : we owe
that in a great degree to our coriimercial supremacy ; and
if we trace that back to its origin, we shall find it in the
settlement in Manchester of a few Flemish artisans, lured
by the charms of the " Lancashire witches."
Up to this time the only means of communication with
Salford, which had then obtained the charter of a free
borough, was by the ford across the Irwell near the foot
of the Smithy Bank. In 1368 Thomas del Booth, a rich
yeoman, left the sum of thirty pounds for the erection
of a stone bridge — the first probably in the country — to
connect the two boroughs. On this bridge a chapel or
oratory was built, which continued to be used for religious
purposes until the time of the Reformation, after which it
served the purpose of a prison for criminals. The oratory
was taken down in 1776, but the bridge itself remained
until 1838, when it gave place to the present Victoria
Bridge.
Thomas del Booth, it will be seen, was one of the ear-
liest benefactors to the town ; he was the representative
of an old family settled at Barton, in the parish of Eccles,
but little is known respecting him.
Now, however, there comes upon the scene the first
of the worthies of Manchester of whom we have reliable
account — Thomas Lord de la Warr, the last male repre-
sentative of an ancient and honourable house. In the
period of commercial progress to which we have just
alluded, the endowments of the Church of Manchester
had increased in proportion to the increased wealth of the
334 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
town, and much of them had been absorbed by non-
resident rectors, who were engaged in secular avocations.
The parsonage-house, too, had become inadequate to the
requirements of the more luxurious priests of later times,
and so a ready pretext was afforded for their frequent
absence, and the consequent neglect of the pastoral duties
they owed to a large and populous parish.
At this time a very lax discipline would appear to have
crept into the Church ; instead of its ministers being the
living embodiments of the moral virtues, checking by
the sanctity of spiritual influences the savage fierceness
of the times, they had become altogether indifferent to
the interests of religion, and abandoning the outward
forms of mortification and humility, assumed an air
of ease and sensuality to which even the feudatory lords
were almost, if not altogether, strangers. As was said
in the famous "Apology for the Lollards," attributed
to Wycliff, " Now almost is there no worldly business
that ministers of the altar are not employed in, . . .
whereof it followeth that they live contrary to Holy
Writ and to the decrees of old fathers."
This spirit would appear to have been strongly charac-
teristic of the clergy under the immediate cognisance of
the rector of Manchester. Many and reiterated were the
complaints, and long and enduring the delays interposed
in the way of redress; but the time had now arrived
when these abuses were to be remedied, and the eccle-
siastical revenues of the parish appropriated to their
legitimate purposes. A younger son of the feudal baron
of Manchester, Thomas de la Warr, was brought up
to the Church, and about the year 1380 was presented
Old Manchester audits Worthies. 335
to the rectory of Manchester, then in his father's patron-
age. License of non-residence was granted to him, but,
unlike his predecessors, he declined to avail himself of
it, preferring to take up his abode at the parsonage,
and to continue in residence there, in order that he
might the more assiduously discharge the rectorial and
diaconal duties devolving upon him ; and these were by
no means of a mere nominal character, that might be ful-
filled or left unperformed at pleasure. He had a settled
jurisdiction over the clergy of the deanery (which at this
time was united with the rectory), and was invested with
a coercive authority over the goods and persons of offenders
among them ; he was also common confessor to the clergy
within his jurisdiction, and was further required to visit
them at stated periods, and to examine into their de-
meanour and conduct — oftentimes an obnoxious office
-by reason of the increasing arrogance displayed by the
rising members of that body.
On the death of his elder brother in 1399, the good
rector succeeded by inheritance to the barony of Man-
chester ; his increased worldly greatness and honour,
however, did not in the least abate, but rather increased,
his sacerdotal zeal. Additional opportunities were now
afforded him of correcting the evils that prevailed; and
not content with mere complaint or protestation, he set
about vigorously to provide for the more adequate cele-
bration of the services of the Church, and the better
administration of its revenues. After he had held the
lordship of Manchester for about twenty years, he deter-
mined to attempt the foundation of a college commen-
surate with the increased extent of the ^town, and to
336 Memorials of Manchester Streets\
withdraw the parish church of Manchester from the
charge of a rector, and place it under the government
of a capitular body, piously considering, as the charter
of foundation ' expresses it, " that the church of Man-
chester having a large and ample parish, and very popu-
lous, had been accustomed to be ruled and governed
in bygone times by rectors, some of whom never, and
some very seldom, cared to personally reside in the
same ; " and that from their long absence followed a
diminution of divine worship and a great danger of souls.
After advising with his diocesan, the Bishop of Lichfield
and Coventry, and others, he petitioned the king, and
on the 22d May 142 1 obtained a royal license author-
ising the collegiation of the old church of Manchester-
On the 14th of the following month he summoned a
meeting of his parishioners ; and, as we learn from the
petition to the Bishop of Coventry then agreed upon, it
was proposed that the parish church should be collegiated,
and a building erected capable of accommodating the- addi-
tional number of clergy who would be required for the
administration of its sacred rights, the benevolent priest
undertaking to surrender the advowson, and to complete,
at his own charge, the college or collegiate residence, and
further endow it with certain of his own lands, in addi-
tion to the existing endowment of the rectory, which it
was proposed to transfer to the new foundation.
What a glorious " parish vestry " must this have been !
Here, unanimously congregated at the sound of the bell,
were the great magnates of the district — Lawrence Hulme
and Henry Bulkely, the churchwardens at that time ; Sir
John le Byron of Clayton, and Sir John de Radclifife of
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 337
Ordsal, two worthy knights of the neighbourhood, with
a profusion of esquires and gentlemen of rank, including
Edmund de Trafford, John de Booths, Ralph Longford,
Thurstan de Holland, James de Strangeways, and Ralph
de Prestwich, with stout yeomen, whose veneration for the
Church was only equalled by their determined zeal in giving
it their defence. It requires but little stretch of the ima-
gination to realise the gathering within the walls of the
old church, to note the look of approval as the pious
De la Warr, in the benevolence of his own good heart,
unfolds his plans for the collegiation of their parish
church, oiTering to give up his ancestral home, and at
his own expense erect a suitable residence for the clergy
on its site, and endow it with a portion of his lands, if
the parish will but assent to the assignment of the
rectorial estates to the new foundation ; and we may
almost fancy we hear the clank of sword and spur upon
the pavement as the knightly throng retires from the
scene, talking over the disinterested zeal and Christian
benevolence of the worthy old priest-lord.
The consent of the parishioners having been given, a
charter of incorporation was granted by the Bishop of
Lichfield and Coventry, which was confirmed by the
Prior and Convent of Coventry, the Archdeacon of
Chester, and the Dean and Chapter of Lichfield. It
is the popular belief that Lord de la Warr built the
present fabric of the Collegiate Church, but this was not
the case. Though there is no positive evidence of the
fact, there is reason to believe that a church had been
erected by the lords of Manchester for the convenience
of their retainers within the fortified precincts of the
338 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
baronial residence, and that this preceded the existence,
and gave place to the present edifice, which was built
upon its site. Neither the charter of incorporation nor
the petition of the parishioners in any way bear out the
idea that it was intended to supersede the existing church
by a new erection, but, on the contrary, the fact that the
whole of the funds bequeathed by the benevolent founder
were employed in building the collegiate residence, and
the endowing of it, leads to the supposition that the
design he had in view was not so much the raising of
an ecclesiastical structure as the placing of the hitherto
neglected parish under the spiritual guidance of a warden
and a large staff of subordinate clergy, that so the ser-
vices of the Church might be celebrated in as complete
a manner as possible, and be accessible to the people at
all canonical hours. Lord de la Warr lived to see his
plans only partially completed ; within a few years of
the foundation he was seized with an illness, and on the
fifth Henry the Sixth (1426-27), he passed away from
the worldly scenes of munificence like a shock of corn
fully ripe, and was interred in the Abbey Church, at
Swineshead in Lincolnshire, to which in his life he had
been a liberal benefactor. Though no storied urn or
pillared bust may perpetuate the name of the ancient
worthy, we have an enduring monument of his pious
zeal — a Christian church in which for ages past our
forefathers have been privileged to offer up the sacrifice
of praise and prayer — a temple which for ages yet to
come shall to our successors be indeed the house of God,
and may become the gate of heaven. Though but few
incidents of his life may have been preserved to us, the
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 339
memory of the good old priest-lord will be revered so
long as one single stone of that venerable pile shall remain
standing upon another.
By the founding of the Collegiate Church, Manchester
became ecclesiastically, what it had previously been in an
industrial point of view, the most important town in the
county, — after the warden of Manchester, the rector of
Winwick and the parson of Wigan being next in impor-
tance ; but the remainder of the secular clergy were, for the
most part, poor, rude, and ignorant, and, it is to be feared,
of questionable morality. Besides christening, shriving,
marrying, and burying, many of them eked out their
existence by keeping traders' accounts, making wills, and
by a variety of other occupations of a non-ecclesiastical
character.
Harrison, describing the clergy at this time, says, "Many
of them went either in divers colours like players, or in
garments of like hue, as yellow, red, green, with their
shoes piked, their hair crisped, their girdles armed with
silver, their apparel for the most part of silk, their caps
laced and buttoned with gold ; so that to meet a priest in
those days was to behold a peacock that spreadeth his
tail when he danceth before his hens." Dr Halley, in
his " Puritanism and Nonconformity of Lancashire," face-
tiously remarks, that " very few of these clerical peacocks
spread their tails to dance before the beautiful hens of
Lancashire, as many of their benefices were not worth
more than four or five pounds a year."
John Huntington, the first warden of the church colle-
giated under Lord de la Warr's influence, is fairly en-
titled to rank among the worthies of Manchester. Like
340 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
his patron, he made himself an example of the truth of
that precept which says it is good to be zealously affected
in a good cause. Huntington, at the time he entered
upon his sacred functions as warden of Manchester, was
rector of the neighbouring parish of Ashton-under-Lyne.
During his lifetime the structure in which our forefathers
had been wont to worship gave place to a more imposing
building. Finding the old church inadequate to the
extended duties of the capitular body, and being, as he
is described, a man of spirit, attentive to the duties of his
church, and anxious to complete and adorn it, he com-
menced the building of a choir eastward of the then
existing edifice, portions of which still remain ; and, as
a record of his works, he left his name, in accordance with
the fashion of the times, in a rebus or device, which may
be seen on two shields that still adorn the archway sepa-
rating the choir from the lady chapel of the Cathedral : one
represents a huntsman with dogs, and the other a vessel or
tun, which joined together represent the name Huntington.
Huntington's example had great weight with his par-
ishioners, who liberally contributed towards the work of
completing that honoured temple which for generations
past has been the pride of Manchester, and the history
of which is so closely interwoven with its local annals.
Of the incidents connected with his wardenship, history
has left no record ; the choir which he commenced he lived
to see completed, and after filling the sacred office for
thirty-six years, he quitted the scene of his worldly labours
on the nth November 1458, and was buried in the vault
beneath the high altar of the church, to which in his
lifetime he had been such a liberal benefactor.
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 341
At the time that Huntington was completing the work
which his predecessor had begun, there was living in the
neighbouring hamlet of Crumpsall a family of small
estate. The house in which they dwelt stood very nearly
upon the site of the present workhouse, and was in
existence until about twenty years ago, when it was
taken down — a little, low, thatched building of very
unpretending appearance, and such as in these times
might serve as the home of an agricultural labourer of
the humblest class. It might originally have presented
a more picturesque exterior, having been built in the
black-and-white half-timbered style ; but constant patch-
ing and repairs, and successive coats of whitewash, had
most effectually destroyed any attraction in this respect
that it might formerly have possessed. The interior
had been sadly altered and defaced, but in one of the
rooms to the east remained a curious fresco painting,
that appeared to have been executed about the time of
Queen Elizabeth, when the occupants had risen to some
eminence in Manchester. In this humble abode it is
believed was born that worthy prelate to whose large-
hearted benevolence Manchester is indebted for one of
its most valued foundations — Hugh Oldham, Bishop of
Exeter, and founder of the Free Grammar School.
Of the early life of the good Bishop comparatively little
is known, and the date of his birth even has never yet
been satisfactorily determined. He appears to have early
attracted the attention of the Countess of Richmond, the
mother of King Henry VII., and to her influence he was
no doubt largely indebted for much of his future pre-
ferment. He was brought up in the household of the
342 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
first Earl of Derby, and placed under the tuition of one
Maurice Westbury, an Oxford man, retained for the pur-
pose of instructing young gentlemen, a practice common
in those days in the residences of the chief nobility — his
fellow-students being James Stanley, afterwards Bishop
of Ely, and William Smyth, afterwards Bishop of Lincoln,
the founder of Brazenose College, Oxford.
Oldham commenced his academical career at Christ
Church, Oxford, and completed it at Queen's College,
Cambridge, where he took his degree. In 1485 he was
appointed rector of St Mildred's Church in London. In
1493 he became rector of Swineshead in Lincolnshire,
and canon of St Stephen's, Westminster, and the follow-
ing year vicar of Cheshunt in Hertfordshire. In 1495 he
was elected to the mastership of St John's Hospital,
Lichfield, and in the same year he was collated to a
prebendal stall in Salisbury Cathedral, receiving also
within a few months the appointment of chaplain to
the Countess of Richmond. In 1496 he was appointed
prebendary of St Paul's, and in the following year he
obtained a stall in Lincoln Cathedral. In 1499 ^^ ^'^^
elected master of St Leonard's Hospital in Bedford ;
three months afterwards he was appointed to the living of
Wareboys in Lincolnshire, and before the close of the same
year he was advanced to a stall in the Cathedral Church
of York. In 1500 he became rector of Shitlington in
Lincolnshire, and the following year he was presented
to the rectory of Overton in Worcestershire. In 1503
he was created Archdeacon of Exeter, and in the follow-
ing year he was, through the influence of his patroness the
Countess of Richmond, appointed bishop of that diocese.
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 343
Oldham was a great patron of learning ; and it would
seem that the state of ignorance of his native county had
deeply impressed his mind, for during the latter part of
his life he had erected and maintained a free school in
Manchester, near to the College. At this time the only
education to be obtained by the poor was in the semin-
aries attached to the religious houses, and the boys were
usually trained for the priesthood. Grammar-schools were
unknown in Lancashire at least, and Jack Cade, had he
visited these parts, would have had no occasion to complain
that "the youth of the realm" were "most traitorously
corrupted " by their influence.
The good Bishop was blessed with a sister, who, not
satisfied with merely helping him in well-doing, induced
her husband also to aid him in his good work ; so that
Joan Bexwicke, with her husband, Hugh Bexwicke, a
member of an old Blackley family, may be looked upon
more in the light of co-founders with the Bishop than as
mere trustees under his will. The foundation charter of
the Grammar School, which is dated the ist of April 1425,
recites that the Bishop had built a school and endowed
it, " for the good mynde which he hadd and bare to the
countrey of Lancashire, consydering the brynging upp in
lernyng, vertue, and good maners childeryn in the same
countrey should be the key and grounde to have good
people ther, whiche both lacked and wanted in the same,
as well for grete povertie of the comn. people ther, as
allsoe by cause of long tyme passyd the teyching and
brynging upp of yonge childrene to scole to the lernyng
of gramyer hath not been taught ther, for lack of sufficient
schole-master, so that the childeryn in the same countrey,
344 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
having pregnant wytte, have ben most parte brought upp
rudely and idilly, and not in vertue, cunnyng, htterature,
and good maners."
In addition to the splendid provision he made for the
Manchester School, Oldham was also a liberal benefactor
to Brazenose College, and assisted Fox, the Bishop of
Lincoln, with a contribution of four hundred pounds — a
large sum in those days — towards the building of Corpus
Christi College, Oxford, to which he also bequeathed con-
siderable grants of land ; and it is recorded that it was by
his counsel and advice that Fox was induced to found the
college in preference to a monastery, as he had origin-
ally intended — Oldham suggesting to him that, instead of
"building houses and providing livelihoods for a company
of monks, whose end and fall we may ourselves live to see,
it were more meet a great deal that we should have care to
provide for the increase of learning, and for such as by their
learning shall do good to Church and Commonwealth."
The worthy Bishop is described as a man of exalted
wisdom and resplendent piety, of gentle manners, and
much inclined to peace and quietness, but, nevertheless,
possessed of sufficient courage to assert and defend his
rights, as he showed in a dispute he had with the Abbot
of Tavistock, and his joining the Bishop of Winchester in
opposing the prerogative of the Archbishop of Canterbury.
The dispute with the Abbot of Tavistock was the old one
between bishop and prior — the right to episcopal super-
vision. The monasteries repudiated all episcopal control,
and owned allegiance only to the Pope of Rome, with " self-
government." Their discipline had become more and more
lax, and hence the desire of a conscientious bishop like
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 345
Oldham to bring them under subjection. He early mani-
fested a desire to correct the gross abuses of the monastic
system, and had he lived a few years later, there can be
little doubt that he would have taken a foremost place
among the leaders of that great national religious move-
ment — the English Reformation.
Bishop Oldham died on the 2Sth June 1519, under
sentence of excommunication, on account of the action at
law at the time pending with the Abbot of Tavistock ;
but the Pope's sanction being obtained, he was buried in a
chapel built by himself expressly for the purpose, at the
upper end of the south aisle of his own cathedral, where a
handsome monument has been erected to his memory —
with the exception of the noble institution that owes its
existence to his munificence, the only monument that
perpetuates his name ; for among the thousands who in
successive generations have benefited by Oldham's liber-
ality, there has not yet been evoked the spirit of gratitude
that would rear even the smallest memorial to keep alive
the remembrance of one to whom Manchester owes so
much. We raise costly trophies to the memory of kings
and conquerors ; but how much more deserving of our
homage is the memory of one who, in those dark feudal
times, was one of the earliest pioneers in the work of
breaking through the barriers of ignorance, and driving it
from its strongholds into'the outer darkness .■'
In 1540 Manchester had conferred on it a privilege
which the inhabitants do not appear to have very highly
appreciated. In that year an Act of Parliament was passed
constituting the town a place of asylum or sanctuary — " a
place," as the Act designates it, " of privilege and tuicion
346 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
for terme of life of all and singular offenders and male-
factours, of whatsoever qualitie, kynde, or nature all and
every theire offences be, for the whiche said offences and
crymes the paynes and punysshement of death shulde ensue
by the statutes, laws, and customes of this realme," other
than murder, rape, burglary, robbery in the highway, or in
any house, or in any church or chapel, or wilfully burn-
ing any house or barn with corn. The immunity, as we
have said, could not have been greatly esteemed, for in the
following year a representation was made to Parliament
that the privilege was very prejudicial to the prosperity of
the town, and another Act was passed transferring the
sanctuary to Chester.
The statute throws some light upon the condition of
Manchester at this time, which, it says, " hath of long tyme
been atowne well inhabited, and the king's subjects, inhabi-
tants of the same towne, well sett a worke in making of
clothes as well of lynnen as of wollen, whereby the inhabi-
tants of the said towne have obteyned, gotten, and come
unto ryches and welthy lyvings, and have kept and sett
many artificers and pore folks to work within the said towne,
and by reason of the great occupying, good order, strayte
and true dealing of the inhabitants of the said towne,
many straungers, as well of Irlond as of other places within
this realme, have resorted to the said towne with lynnen
yarne, wooles, and other necessary wares for making of
clothes, to be sold there." The Act then sets forth that
" dyverse light and evil-disposed persons syns the passing
of the sanctuary statute, for certen offences by them
comytted and done, have nowe of late resorted and made
their abode within the said towne of Manchestre, and
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 347
lived in ydleness not allone by geving evil occasion to
honest and true labourers and servauntes within the said
towne to live in such sort of idleness, but also have allured
and enticed diverse servaunts and labourers within the said
towne to practise and use unlawful! games, whereby they
have consumed and mysspent their masters' goodes being
in their handes, and ever that syns this resorte of the
said persons to the said town there hath been comytted
and done divers thefts and felonyes, as in felonyous break-
ing of walk-mylls and staylyng clothes thyder brought
to be fulled, and also in staylyng of yarne layde out to
be whyted, and in staylyng and cutting down great peaces
of clothes from the teyntors by night as by day, to the
great empoverysshment of the owners thereof, so that they
be not able to kepe theire credite with theire creditors."
Several "sanctuary houses" were erected in Manchester
for the accommodation of these offenders against the civil
law, each having a chapel and altar attached to it, to which
the inmate could fly in case of necessity. The remains of
one of these were discovered several years ago on widening
Smithy Door ; another was situated in the Old Millgate ;
and a third, according to tradition, occupied the site of the
Old Boar's Head Tavern at Hyde's Cross.
Whilst these complaints were being made against the
abuse of the privilege of sanctuary, a great revolution was
taking place in religious thought and action, which led to
those changes in the teaching and ritual of the National
Church, the meaning of which is conveyed in the single
word which marks that memorable epoch — the Reforma-
tion. Manchester had its full share of disquietude during
the progress of that memorable struggle, some of its
348 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
inhabitants displaying unusual zeal in ' promulgating the
doctrines of the Reformed Church, whilst others were
equally earnest in their defence of the "ancient faith."
Amongst the former was one who endured a martyr's
death at Smithfield, and earned for himself a well-deserved
niche in English history.
One of the earliest names in the grand muster-roll of
eminent scholars which Hugh Oldham's Grammar School
displays is that of John Bradford, one of the most eminent
divines of the Protestant faith, who suffered at the stake for
his religion in the persecuting reign of Queen Mary. Brad-
ford is believed to have been born in the year 1510, so that
he would be about five years of age when Oldham's school
was founded. According to some authorities, Blackley, a
chapelry on the outskirts of Manchester, has the honour of
giving him birth, an opinion that is based upon the fact
that his mother resided there at the time he was a prisoner,
and that his earliest associations were with that village,
where many of his kindred, including the Bexwickes, who,
as we have seen, were also connected with the Oldhams,
resided. Others incline to the opinion that Bradford was
born in a house in the Old Millgate. Certain it is that
in 1489 a deed was executed conveying a house in the
Millgate, which is described as between the tenement of
John Bradford and Richard Piatt ; and this John Bradford
may not improbably have been the father of the martyr.
Having received his education at the Grammar School,
his "activity in writings," and "expertness in the art of
audition," secured for him the appointment of secretary
to Sir John Harrington, treasurer of the English forces in
France. His plans, however, were shortly afterwards
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 349
changed, and in 1547 he entered himself at the Inner
Temple as a student of the Common Law. Here,
influenced by his friend and fellow-student, Thomas
Sampson, afterwards Dean of Chichester, he embraced the
doctrines of the Reformation, when he abandoned the
study of the law for that of divinity, in which latter
purpose he was patronised by good old Bishop Ridley.
In 1548 he entered at Carhbridge, where he took his
degree, and was chosen a Fellow. Subsequently he was
appointed a Prebendary of St Paul's ; and so great was his
popularity, that he was appointed one of the chaplains to
King Edward the Sixth. About the middle of that king's,
reign he came down to his native county, and preached at
Manchester, Eccles, Prestwich, Middleton, Ashton-under-
Lyne, Stockport, and other places, and with such success
that the conformity of the population of Lancashire to the
Reformed faith was chiefly owing to his extraordinary
exertions, there being in the county at the beginning of
the reign of Edward the Sixth a greater proportion of the
people who were hostile to the Protestant tenets than were
to be found in any other part of the kingdom. After the
accession of Queen Mary, Bradford continued his public
preaching, and used every means in his power to keep alive
the Protestant religion, which appeared to be fast sinking
beneath the more gorgeous ordinances of the Church of
Rome. As might be expected, his ardent zeal against
Popery soon rendered his situation a dangerous one, and
he was early marked out for destruction. He was
publicly accused of sedition and teaching heresy, for which
he was committed to the Tower. On the 22d January
1554, he was brought to trial before Gardiner, Bishop of
Winchester, and Bonner, Bishop of London, from which
35° Memorials of Manchester Streets.
time he underwent a long series of perplexing examina-
tions. The terrors of excommunication were hurled against
him, but in vain ; the alternative of death or recantation
was presented, and faith gained the victory. He was
eventually sent to Newgate, from whence he was removed to
Smithfield, where, on the 30th June 1555, at the stake he
fearlessly met the torturous death by which Mary and her
cruel abettors sought to exterminate the Protestant faith.
Bradford, as we have said, was closely connected with
the Bexwickes, a family who did good in their day and
generation. To Richard Bexwicke we are indebted for
the richly-carved stalls and the elaborate tabernacle- work
on the north side of the choir of the Cathedral. Another
of the family, Hugh Bexwicke, married Joan, the sister of
Hugh Oldham. At his martyrdom, Bradford was at-
tended by his brother-in-law, Roger Bexwicke ; and a few
years later, Isabel, widow of Roger Beck, and a grand-
daughter of the Roger Bexwicke just named, was a
benefactor to the town, she having, at her own expense,
caused pipes to be laid for the conveyance of water from
the fountain near the top of Market Sted or Market
Street as it was afterwards called — and which gave name
to the present Fountain Street and Spring Gardens — to
the conduit near the Market Sted or Market Place, and
for its future maintenance bequeathed the rental of certain
houses in St Mary's Gate.
On the accession of Elizabeth, the public profession
of Protestantism was restored, and every means taken to
effect the overthrow of the Romish system. Lancashire at
this time was said to be " mightily infected with Popery,"
and severe measures were resorted to against those who
professed the ancient creed. Dr Chadderton, who was
Ola Manchester and its Worthies, 3 5 1
at the time Bishop of Chester, also held the warden-
ship of Manchester; and to him Elizabeth addressed a
letter, couched in her usual tone of decision, requiring him
to visit the most remote parts of his diocese. The Queen's
admonition produced the desired effect, the visitation
being entered upon with all convenient dispatch, when
a kind of religious warfare was carried on with much
bitterness on both sides. The chapel on the Old Bridge,
and the New Fleet prison, which occupied a site near
the present Palatine Hotel, were crowded with recusant
prisoners, who had been hunted out with keen rapacity by
a swarm of informers, who earned a base living by aug-
menting the miseries of their unfortunate fellow-creatures.
The Bishop appears to have had recourse to a somewhat
novel mode of effecting the conversion of these religious
prisoners. Dodd affirms that he gave instructions to the
clergy of Manchester to read prayers in the apartments
where the recusants were confined at meal-times, so that
they had the pleasant alternative of taking theological
nourishment with their food, or going without victuals
altogether.
Dr John Dee, Chadderton's successor in the wardenship
of Manchester, was a man who took little interest in Papist
or Protestant theology, being more devoted to the study
of alchemy and astrology than to political or religious
controversies. Dee's connection with the occult sciences
brought down upon him the anger of the Fellows of his
College, who accounted the casting of horoscopes and the
transmuting of baser metals to gold as something akin to,
if not even worse than witchcraft. He was not, it would
seem, very successful in his efforts to produce gold, for he
became involved in debt, and had to leave the town ; his
352 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
revenues were sequestered, and he died at Mortlake in
a state of abject poverty.
Of all the Manchester worthies, there is none perhaps
whose name is more frequently mentioned with affection
than he to whom quaint old Fuller in his " Worthies of
England " has accorded a well-deserved niche — Humphrey
Chetham, the founder of the noble hospital and library
that bear his name. Crumpsall claims the honour of
having given birth to Hugh Oldham, and there also, in
1580, Humphrey Chetham was born.
The Chethams were an ancient and honourable family,
who derived their patronymic from the village of Chee-
tham in the parish of Manchester, and their descent from
one Galfridus or Geoffrey Chetham, who several times
filled the office of Sheriff of Lancashire during the long
reign of Henry the Third, the Crumpsall line being
an offshoot from the branch settled at Nuthurst in
Moston. Crumpsall Hall, the birthplace of Humphrey,
of which we give an illustration, was a picturesque half-
timbered structure, with quaintly-gabled roof and pro-
jecting bay-windows. It occupied a site about a quarter
of a mile from the new hall, and was pulled down about
half a century ago.
Like Bradford, Chetham received his education at the
old Grammar School. In due time he was apprenticed to
a linen-draper or clothier, and afterwards, associated with
his brothers George and Ralph Chetham, he embarked in
trade as a dealer in fustians, which he bought at Bolton
and sold in London. He had also considerable transac-
tions with Ireland in yarn and linen, and with his other
branches of business he combined that of a money-lender,
Old Manchester and its Worthies, 353
having, if we may judge from letters that have been
preserved, been somewhat exacting in the matter of
usury. His trading career was eminently and uninterrup-
tedly prosperous, so much so, that he was enabled to acquire
considerable landed property in his native county. In
1620 he purchased the park and manor of Clayton, near
Manchester, and with them the old moated hall, which for
generations had been the residence of the knightly family
of the Byrons, ancestors of the late Lord Byron. Here
he took up his abode, and subsequently, in 1628, he be-
came the owner of Turton Tower, near Bolton. His in-
creasing wealth soon attracted the attention of the money-
seeking functionaries of Charles the First, who, for the
purpose of replenishing an empty exchequer, served him
with a summons to pay a fine for not having attended at
the King's coronation in order that he might receive the
honour of knighthood.
It would seem that throughout his life the greatest
troubles Chetham had were in avoiding the greatness
which it was attempted to thrust upon him. His reluc-
tance, however, was of no avail. In November 1634 he
was nominated Sheriff of the county ; immediately after
he received from his predecessor the first writ for that
obnoxious impost which eventually led to the overthrow of
Charles — ship-money. In collecting the tax, he found
himself considerably out of pocket ; and when, in August of
the succeeding year, a second levy was made, he took the
precaution of recouping himself the sums he had expended,
a procedure that brought him into trouble with the Chan-
cellor of the Duchy, who threatened to make it " a Star
Chamber business." A lengthy correspondence ensued,
2 A.
354 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
but, in the long run, Chetham was compelled to make
restitution.
Whilst this was going on, he became involved in a con-
troversy with the Heralds' College, for having, as was alleged,
appropriated the armorial bearings of a family to which he
had no title. It would seem that he had not borne arms
before his shrievalty, and, anxious to do honour to that office,
he had inadvertently adopted the coat of Chadderton, and
used it as his own insignia at the Assizes'. For this offence
he was again threatened with a prosecution, but eventually
the Earl Marshall was induced to condone the offence, and
grant the confirmation of a pedigree and arms, in considera-
tion of the payment of ten pounds. Humphrey begrudged
the payment of this sum, and, alluding to the gold bezants
which appeared in the arms, he sarcastically wrote to his
attorney that " they (the arms) were not depicted in soe
good mettall as those armes wee gave for them." Possibly
the worthy Sheriff appreciated the motto Quod tuum tene
more highly than the arms he was required to pay for. In
1648 the shrievalty was again conferred on him, although
he strove to be excused "on account of his many infir-
mities." Five years afterwards, on the 12th October 1653,
he died unmarried, at Clayton Hall, in the seventy-third
year of his age, and was interred in a small chapel at the
east end of the old church, to which, during his lifetime,
he had rendered good service in reforming abuses and
obtaining a new charter for the better administration of its
affairs.
During his lifetime, he had at his own expense main-
tained and clothed a number of poor boys, and by his will
he bequeathed the sum of seven thousand five hundred
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 355
pounds, to be expended in the foundation and endowment
of a hospital for the maintenance, education, and appren-
ticing of forty poor boys for ever. He further bequeathed
a sum of one thousand pounds to be expended inbooks for
or towards a library — the first free public library established
in the kingdom. In his lifetime he had expressed a desire
to obtain possession of the College for his benevolent pur-
poses, and, in accordance with the tenor of his will, his
executors effected the purchase of the buildings in 1654.
Within the last twenty years new beauty has been added
to the " old church" by the insertion of a memorial window
and the erection of a marble statue to the memory of
Humphrey Chetham, at the cost- of a former participator
in his bounty; and it is well that the virtue of so charitable
a mind should thus be held forward for future example.
In Chetham's time Manchester was the chief centre of
the manufacturing industry of the country, and the most
important town in the county, though it was only a village
in comparison with the Manchester of to-day. The old
town of Aldport had entirely disappeared. The Lodge
at Aldport served as a town residence for the Earls of
Derby; and here, a century previous to the time of which we
speak, James Stanley, who with his son Sir John founded
the " Derby Chapel " in the " old church," was a frequent
visitor after he had resigned the wardenship of Manchester,
and become Bishop of Ely, his name being still commemor-
ated in Bishop's Gate, a narrow street leading from Great
Bridgewater Street to Aldport. The Market Place, or
Market Sted as it was then called, with the parish church,
formed the centre round which the town gathered. In the
centre of the space now covered by the Cotton-waste
356 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Dealers' Exchange stood the Market Cross, and in the
area in front was placed the " Booths," originally formed of
wood, in which the town's Portmotes or Boroughreeve's
Court, and the Courts Leet and Baron of the feudal lords,
were held, as were also subsequently the Petty and Quarter
Sessions. Hard by was the pillory or neck-stocks, a mode
of punishment claimed as a manorial right in feudal times,
and used chiefly against dishonest traders, — offending
women being subjected to another kind of punishment,
equally disagreeable, and certainly not less degrading —
the tumbrel or cuck-stool. In mediaeval times, the female
portion of the population of the lower classes were, it
is to be feared, not very amiable ; in the turbulent inde-
pendence that then reigned, a too free use of the
tongue was not greatly conducive to the peace and
good order of the community, and to remedy the evil the
cucking-stool was had recourse to. This consisted of a
rude kind of chair placed upon the end of a long pole,
balanced in the centre upon a pivot, and suspended over a
pool of water. In this chair the culprit was placed, and then
lowered into the water. Originally the punishment was
inflicted in the pool surrounding the fortified residence of
the Radcliffes, a mansion occupying the site of the present
Half-Moon Tavern in Chapel Walks, and, from its situation,
called the Pool House or Pool Fold. The Radcliffes do not
appear to have greatly appreciated these exhibitions, for
in the Court Leet records there are numerous complaints
recorded of their having cast earth into and otherwise en-
croached upon the " Cucking-stool Pool." In 1590 and
1591, the "Pool" having been left dry, the cucking-stool
was transferred to the marl-pits, or Daub Holes as they
Old Manchester audits Worthies. 357
were called, near the top of Market Sted Lane, and in front
of the present Infirmary ; and there it remained until the
eighteenth century, the chair itself, we believe, being still
preserved as a relic in the Infirmary. Another mode of
punishment to which the weaker sex were occasionally
subjected, and which has now also fallen into disuse, was
the brank or scold's bridle, consisting of an iron collar, with
a band of the same material fitting closely over the head,
secured by a padlock at the back, and opened by hinges.
From within the hoop a spiked iron plate projected into
the mouth, and pressing upon the tongue, formed an effec-
tual gag. This instrument, which had a leading chain
three feet long attached to it, was used to control the
energetic tongues of the female stall-keepers in the market,
and is still in the possession of the Corporation, though it
is long since it was called into requisition.
The lane leading from the Market Sted to the mill was
lined with houses on both sides. Withy Grove, leading up
from the junction of Toad Lane with Hanging Ditch, was
indeed a grove of withies, the old " Seven Stars " and a few
other dwellings being all that existed to give the character
of street. Market Street Lane was a narrow and tortuous
thoroughfare, hemmed in on each side by quaint old timber
houses, with high-peaked gables and overhanging roofs,
standing in an in-and-out sort of fashion, as if with studied
disregard of method or order. Deansgate led off in another
direction, the buildings extending about as far as the present
Bridge Street. Another street. Long Millgate, ran parallel
with the Irk, an irregular line of houses with little plots of
garden in their rear forming the boundary on either side.
Near to the present Ducie Bridge, and not far distant from
358 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
the fulling-mill, a rural lane shaded with hedgerows
branched off on the right, that in after years received the
name of Miller's Lane. The only communication with
Salford was by the Old Bridge, a structure of three arches,
built, as we have seen, by Thomas del Booth in the reign of
Edward the Third, and so narrow that passengers had
occasionally to take refuge in little recesses whilst vehicles
passed along. The royal borough could only boast of two
streets, all else being green fields and pasture lands, with
here and there a solitary homestead. Chapel Street, or
Sargeant Street as it was then called, extended from the
foot of the bridge to a point opposite the present Trinity
Church ; and in another direction a thoroughfare led up
from the bridge, to which in after years the name of Green-
gate was given.
Such was the appearance of Manchester at the time of
the breaking out of those unhappy struggles between
Charles the First and his Parliament, during which this
country was torn by intestine commotions and drenched
with civil slaughter. The place became the great strong-
hold and rallying-point of the Puritan party; and it is
worthy of note that it was here the first blood was shed,
and resistance to the demands of the crown first offered, in
that great conflict. In June 1642 the King issued his
commission of array, when Ralph Assheton of Middleton,
acting in the interests of the Parliament, seized the powder
and match lying in the College buildings, then belonging
to Lord Strange, the heir to the Earldom of Derby, where-
upon his Lordship marched upon the town with a force, and
demanded the surrender of the magazine. Some of the
inhabitants who were favourable to the Royalist cause,
Old Ma?ichester andits Worthies. 359
being anxious to appease Lord Strange, invited him to a
banquet in the town, in the hope that an amicable arrange-
ment might be come to. While he was being peaceably
entertained, some of the more zealous on the other side
called out the trained bands ; a skirmish ensued, shots
were fired, and a linen-weaver named Percival, who was
watching the proceedings from a stile near the old church,
was killed, being the first person who fell in the great civil
war.
War was now inevitable, and the Mancestrians set
about putting the town in a state of defence. Heyrick,
the Puritan warden, took an active interest in the work,
and engaged the services of Colonel Rosworm, a German
engineer, who had been trained in the wars of the Low
Countries. Rosworm agreed to superintend the defences
of the town for six months for the modest sum of thirty
pounds, and repented his bargain almost as soon as he
had made it, for on the following morning he was offered
five times that sum by the Royalist commander. To his
honour be it said, he was faithful to his engagement, though
he bewailed the beggarly remuneration he had accepted,
and never ceased to rail at the "despicable earthworms,"
as he termed his employers, for the niggardly and reluctant
manner in which they performed their part of the contract.
Rosworm set about his work in good earnest, and he did
it well. Barricades and earthworks were constructed at
the ends of the principal streets, and posts and chains were
placed across Salford Bridge, Deansgate, and other ap-
proaches to the town, to impede the progress of any
invading force. In the meantime Lord Strange had pre-
pared his plans, and in September it was known that he
360 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
contemplated an assault upon the town. On the morning
of Sunday the 25th September, his forces, which consisted
of four thousand foot and two hundred horse, with seven
guns, were seen defiling along both banks of the Irwell,
one division, under the command of Sir Thomas Tyldesley,
taking up its position in the grounds at Aldport, the other
keeping the western side of the river, and occupying
Salford. Rosworm was ready for the foe, and undertook
the defence of Salford Bridge ; Bradshaw was posted at the
Deansgate entrance to the town ; and Captain Radcliffe of
the Pool guarded the approach by Market Street Lane ;
whilst Captain Booth with the Dunham tenantry kept
himself in reserve in the Millgate, ready to give assistance
wherever it might be required. In the evening the
Royalists tried to force the bridge, but were repulsed by
Rosworm and the " muskettiers '' whom he had stationed in
the churchyard. On the following day Colonel Tyldesley
made an assault on Bradshaw's force at the Deansgate,
and driving them forward, set fire to two barns and eight
or ten thatched houses ; but the Royalists were in turn
compelled to retire. In the meanwhile Lord Strange, or
Lord Derby as he had now become — his father having
died the previous day — ^opened fire with his artillery, but
without doing any great damage. On Tuesday the fight
was continued, but with no greater success. Wednesday
was devoted to negotiation for a surrender, but the towns-
men refused to yield. On Thursday hostilities were
renewed, in the midst of which Captain Standish, whilst
urging the Royalists to force their way over the bridge,
was shot down by one of Rosworm's men placed on the
church tower. During Friday the cannonade was con-
. Old Manchester and its Worthies. 36 1
tinued with more or less vigour, but with very little result.
In the course of the day Lord Derby received a summons
requiring him to raise the siege and join the King with his
forces at Shrewsbury. On the following day prisoners
were exchanged, the besieging forces were withdrawn, and
so ended the siege of Manchester. To prevent a surprise,
the fortifications were immediately strengthened, a renewal
of Rosworm's services was secured, and the town continued
in the possession of the Parliamentarians to the close of
the war, without any further attempt being made to gain
possession of it.
Among the officers who most distinguished themselves
in the service of the Parliamentarian party was Charles
Worsley, the eldest son of Ralph Worsley, a wealthy
trader of Manchester, who resided at Piatt, an estate
within the township of Rusholme, on the outskirts of
Manchester, and who claimed descent from Elias de
Workesley, Lord of Worsley, a famous crusader, who
attended Robert Duke of Normandy in the expedition to
the Holy Land. Charles Worsley was born at Piatt in
1622, and preferring the more exciting profession of arms
to the peaceful pursuits of commerce, he entered the
service of the Parliamentarians, and became a captain in
their forces in 1644. No soldier rose more rapidly. In
1650 he had reached the position of lieutenant-colonel; and
so much did he gain the confidence of Cromwell, that before
he was thirty years of age he was entrusted with the
command of the Protector's own regiment of foot. In
August 1650, Worsley marched from Manchester with his
regiment to join Cromwell in Scotland, but arrived too
late to share in the victory at Dunbar, though he served
362 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
with the Lord-General during the remainder of the cam-
paign.
On an occasion memorable in the annals of England — the
dissolution of the Long Parliament, April 20, 1653 — Colonel
Worsley, in obedience to the orders of Cromwell, repaired
with a force of three hundred men to Westminster, and sta-
tioned himself outside the Houses of Parliament, there to
await the signal requiring his presence within. On receiv-
ing this, he and his men rushed forward and surrounded
Cromwell, who immediately conveyed to them his wishes.
Cromwell having expelled the members who were present,
advanced to the table, and pointing to the mace which lay
upon it, commanded them to " take away that bauble." It
is not recorded who obeyed this direction, but as from the
journals of the House of Commons it appears that when
the next Parliament met (the " Barebones " Parliament,
which was summoned to appear at Whitehall, July 4,
1653), an order was passed requiring that the Serjeant-
at-arms " do repair to Lieutenant-Colonel Worsley for the
mace, and do bring it to the House," there can be little
doubt that it was he who charged himself with its safe
custody when the order was given for its removal.
In 1654, Manchester was for the first time admitted to
Parliamentary representation. In the Parliament sum-
moned to assemble on the 3d of September in that year,
Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Worsley was nominated by
the Lord-General representative for Manchester, and
several of the inhabitants went through the formality
of electing him as the first member. On the dissolution
of this Parliament, he was chosen one of the ten, with
the rank of major-general and the powers of a viceroy,
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 363
who represented the Protector in their several districts.
The counties of Leicester, Cheshire, and Stafford were
assigned to him, and he discharged the duties of his
office with great diligence, some say with great severity
and puritanical rigour.
He had held his office only a few months when he was
summoned by Cromwell to a conference in London, and,
as a mark of distinction, had apartments assigned to
him in St James's Palace, or "James House," as his
father in his diary calls it. Here he arrived feeble and
exhausted ; a disease had set in which proved fatal, and
on the evening of Thursday, June 12, 1656, he expired,
at the early age of thirty-five. He was buried with
much pomp in Henry the Seventh's Chapel at West-
minster; and it is worthy of notice that his remains
escaped the general exhumation that fell to the lot
of Cromwell's followers interred in that great national
mausoleum. Dean Stanley, in the third edition of his
" Memorials of Westminster Abbey," gives an interesting
account of the finding of the supposed remains of the
Lieutenant-General. A half-length portrait of him is still
preserved as an heirloom of the family at Piatt.
By the early death of Worsley, Cromwell sustained an
irreparable loss. He was a man of great energy, courage,
and decision ; and by his shrewdness and calm judgment,
as well as by his skill as a commander, he seemed the
best fitted to succeed to the Protectorate had Providence
willed that such a form of government should be pro-
longed in England.
Another Manchester man, if not a "Manchester worthy,"
who attained to eminence during the Commonwealth
364 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
period, was Ralph Brideoake, an ecclesiastic of versatile
powers, and, it is said — and not without some show of
reason — of versatile principles also. Brideoake was born
at Cheetham Hill, and received his early education at
the Manchester Grammar School. At the age of sixteen
he was admitted a student of Brazenose College, Oxford,
and at twenty-eight obtained his degree of Bachelor of
Arts. He was subsequently appointed pro-chaplain of
New College, and on the King's visit to the University in
1636, was created by royal letters Master of Arts. Subse-
quently he was appointed curate of Wytham in Oxford-
shire, and having gained the notice of Dr Jackson,
President of Corpus Christi College, he was by him
presented to the High Mastership of the Grammar School
of his native town, a position he resigned for a chaplaincy
in the household of the Earl of Derby. He was present at
the siege of Lathom House, and it is generally believed
that it is to Brideoake's graphic pen we owe the narrative
of Charlotte Tremouille's heroic defence of that famed
Lancashire stronghold. He is said by one of his bio-
graphers " to have done good service." He did, in more
senses than one ; for whilst faithful to the interests of his
patrons, he was no ways negligent of his own, and he
seemed to have had a peculiar faculty for adapting his con-
duct to the varying spirit of the age in which he lived. When
the Earl of Derby was condemned to death, Brideoake
pleaded with Lenthall, the Speaker of the House of
Commons, for the pardon of his master, with so much
earnestness and ability, that though he failed in obtaining
a commutation of the punishment, he so won upon the
feelings of the Speaker that he appointed him his own
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 365
chaplain, and nominated him preacher of the Rolls Chapel,
where it may be fairly presumed he preached Puritanism to
the Long Parliament with as much zeal as he had preached
the doctrine of the right divine of kings to the soldiers who
garrisoned Lathom House. Through the influence of his
new master he was presented to the vicarage and rectory of
Whitney in Oxfordshire ; and on the restoration of Charles
the Second, he was appointed chaplain to his Majesty and
canon of Windsor. Afterwards he became successively
rector of St Bartholomew's in the city of London, and of
Standish near Wigan, in Lancashire. In 1667 he was
made Dean of Salisbury, and seven years later, having
found favour with the Duchess of Portsmouth, he was
nominated to the bishopric of Chichester, which he held
until his death in 1678.
Resolute as the men of Manchester had shown them-
selves in resisting the unconstitutional demands of King
Charles, and devoted as they had been to the Common-
wealth, they welcomed the restoration of monarchy with
an enthusiasm that knew no bounds. The coronation of
the restored King was made the occasion of extravagant
rejoicings ; wine flowed from the conduit, the gutters were
flooded with strong beer, and bonfires blazed for a whole
week.
The Act of Uniformity soon followed, when two
thousand ministers withdrew themselves from the com-
munion of the Church of England. Among them was
good old Henry Newcome, one of the clergy of the
Collegiate Church, a " prince of preachers," as he has been
called by his friends. He may be considered as the father
of Nonconformity in Manchester.
365 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
Heyrick, the Puritan warden of Manchester, who had
preached Presbyterianism during the Commonwealth,
readily accommodated himself to the altered condition of
the time, and renounced his principles to retain his place ;
but Newcome, more consistent, unable to conform to the
discipline of the Church, rerired, to the great grief of his
people, by whom he was greatly beloved. On the grant-
ing of " indulgences," he commenced preaching in his own
house, but that being found too small for his numerous
hearers, he obtained a license for a barn in the neighbour-
hood of Shudehill, in which he held weekly services. On
the passing of the Act of Toleration, at the accession of
William of Orange, the wealthy Presbyterians 'of Man-
chester gathered round their favourite preacher, and built
him a more fitting tabernacle, on the site of the present
Unitarian Chapel in Cross Street — ^the first erected for the
use of the Nonconformist body in the town. Being close
to the Pool where, as we have seen, the cucking-stool was
placed, it was in derision designated by the opponents of
dissent St Plungem's Chapel. Newcome was not long per-
mitted to continue his ministrations, his death occurring
on the 17th September 1695, little more than a year after
the opening of the "great and fair meeting-house."
Whilst High Churchmen and Puritan Presbyterians were
occupying their time in theological disputations, another
Manchester man was increasing his worldly wealth, and
accumulating a property which at his death he bequeathed
for educational purposes — William Hulme, the founder of
the Charity which bears his name. The Hulmes were a
"genteel family," who had been seated at Hulme in Red-
dish, a hamlet on the southerly side of Manchester, as early
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 367
as the thirteenth century; and here, on the loth September
163 1, was born William the "founder." He received his
education at the Free Grammar School of Manchester, but
of his subsequent career little is known. He is commonly-
said to have been engaged in trade, but it is more than
probable that he followed the profession of the law. He
married, in 1653, the daughter of a Mr Robinson of Kersley,
and by her had an only son, Banastre Hulme, who pre-
deceased him. Being left childless, he bequeathed his
estate, after making provision for his widow, to charitable
purposes, and died in 1691. His will directs that the clear
annual rents and profits arising from his property shall be
distributed amongst four of the poor sort of Bachelors
of Arts taking such degree in Brazenose College, Oxford, as
from time to time shall resolve to continue there by the
space of four years, " after such degree taken," the same to
be nominated and approved by the warden of Manchester
and the rectors of the parish churches of Prestwich and
Bury. The property, which originally yielded only about
£ap a year, has by the commercial enterprise of Manchester
been increased more than a hundred-fold in value, and it is
estimated that ere long the real income will be ;^ 10,000
a year.
The difficulty Hulme's trustees have experienced has
been to dispose of the yearly increasing revenue from his
estates. The number of exhibitioners and the amount of
their allowance have from time to time been increased, and
Parliament has been induced to devote a large portion of
the income from purposes essentially educational to the
purchase of advowsons, the building of churches, and the
erection of parsonage-houses, — an entire departure from the
368 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
spirit and intention of the founder's will. It is to be hoped
that at no distant day the rapidly increasing funds of
Hulme's Charity may be rescued from their present diver-
sion, and that determined steps will be taken to secure the
establishment of such an educational institution in Man-
chester as will best give effect to the benevolent designs of
Hulme, and so confer inestimable benefits on Lancashire
and the adjacent counties.
At this time a mighty change had come over the feeling
of the people of Manchester. The descendants of those
who had bargained with the old German engineer to help
them in their rebellion against the authority of Charles the
First were now equally determined in their adherence to
the cause of the exiled Stuarts. When George the First
ascended the throne, the Jacobites were in the ascendant,
and the dissenters, who were favourable to the Hanoverian
succession, had, on the whole, but a sorry time of it. On
the lOth June 171 5, the birthday of Prince James the Old
Pretender, a riotous mob, headed by Thomas Syddall, a
peruke-maker, paraded the town, denouncing the dissenters
and proclaiming King James the Third. The chapel in
Pool Fold, built by the friends of Newcome, was attacked
and reduced to a mere wreck, everything portable being
carried away. Syddall, the ringleader, was placed in the
pillory, and afterwards confined in the Castle at Lancaster.
Whilst he was undergoing imprisonment, the Scotch ad-
herents of the Pretender passed through the town on their
way south. Syddall with other prisoners was liberated,
and he then joined the insurgent forces, and marched with
them to Preston, where they were attacked by General
Willes, and compelled to surrender. The Jacobite-barber
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 369
was made prisoner, tried at the " Bloody Assize," and con-
demned to death. It is said that his son, a youth of ten
years of age, conceiving an implacable hatred against dis-
senters and Hanoverians, vowed that, if spared, he would
avenge the death of his father, — a feeling he attempted to
gratify, as we shall see, some thirty years later.
The barbarous severities to which those who took part
in the rebellion of 171 5 were subjected greatly exasperated
the Jacobites, and much bitterness of feeling prevailed
in the town, encouraged, it is to be feared, by the fierce
polemics of the day. The supporters of the Stuart cause
held their meetings in certain recognised taverns in the
town and its vicinity, maintaining during their conviviali-
ties the outward manifestations of loyalty to the reigning
sovereign, and at the same time satisfying their own
scruples of conscience with respect to the prince whom
alone they recognised, by holding their glasses " over the
water," whilst drinking " the health of the king."
In 1733, whilst party feehng was at its height, the
founder of Methodism paid a visit to Manchester. There
were only two churches in the town at the time (Trinity
being on the Salford side of the Irwell), the Old Church,
the worshippers at which were High-Churchmen and zeal-
ous partisans of the Stuarts, and St Ann's, the congregation
of which were loyal to the House of Brunswick. Wesley
preached at both. He knew nothing, however, of political
parties, his mission being to the multitude ; and as he
showed no special preference to either faction, as might
be expected, he gave satisfaction to none.
One of the most energetic leaders of the Jacobite party
was a " Manchester worthy " whose name ought not to be
2 B
370 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
forgotten in this faithful record of Manchester men — John
Byrom, more familiarly know by the sobriquet of Doctor
Byrom, whose ready pen and sparkling wit were always at
the service of his party. The Byroms were an ancient and
honourable family, who had been for some time settled at
Kersal, on the outskirts of Manchester. The father of John
is described as a " hnen-draper," a business that in many
respects resembled the " warehouseman " of the present
day. John, who was a younger son, was born in 1691, his
early education he received at Chester, and at Merchant
Taylor's, in London, after which he was admitted at Trinity
College, Cambridge, where he took his degree of B.A. in
171 1. Shortly afterwards, his first contribution appeared
in the pages of the Spectator, to be followed immediately
by his famous pastoral, " Colin and Phoebe." In 1717 he
studied medicine at Montpelier in France, though it does
not appear that he ever followed the practice of it. On his
return to England, the ardent young Jacobite fell in love
with his cousin ; he quickly gained the young lady's favour,
but her father's approval was not so readily obtained, —
objection probably being taken to a youthful wooer with
doubtful prospects and no profession ; consent, however, if
not approval, was eventually given, and in 1721 the young
couple were united.
Byrom now began to feel the increased responsibilities
of his new position ; and his means becoming straitened,
he set up in London as a teacher of shorthand. The death
of his elder brother without issue, however, placed him
in possession of the Kersal estates, and in a position of
independence, when he was enabled to enjoy his otium cum
dignitate, and devote his leisure to literary pursuits, his
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 371
pen being always active with some epigram or political
squib. He will always be remembered as the author of
the popular Chris.tmas hymn " Christians, awake." To
him also we owe the well-known lines, written during the
Jacobite controversies in Manchester —
" God bless the king ! — I mean our faith's defender.
God bless — no harm in blessing — the Pretender !
But who Pretender is, or who is king,
God bless us all ! that's quite another thing."
The laureate of the Jacobites, as he has been termed,
was more then a match for his Whig antagonists. Imbued
with strong religious feelings, there was little of bitterness
in his disposition ; the shaft of ridicule was never enven-
omed, his playful wit and genial good-humoured satire
telling with far greater effect than the coarse and angry
invectives with which he was at times assailed. If he was
ready to lampoon a foe, he never lacked the courage to
rebuke a friend. This is shown in the lines he addressed to
Townley, the Jacobite colonel, who was sadly addicted to
profane swearing : —
" Soldier, so tender of thy prince's fame.
Why so profane of a superior name .''
For the king's sake the brunt of battle bear.
But for the King of king's sake — do not swear."
He died on the 26th September 1763, and was buried
in the Collegiate Church, where he had been baptized
seventy-two years before. In Gregson's' " Portfolio of Frag-
ments of Lancashire," there is a spirited portrait of him,
sketched in the last year of his life, while spending an
evening at John Shaw's Punch-House, a famous resort of
the adherents of the Stuarts.
572 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
The host of the "Punch-House," John Shaw, was a
man of mark in his day and generation. In early life he
had been a trooper, and had fought in the wars of Queen
Anne's reign. During his campaigns abroad he had ac-
quired the art of brewing punch, then a favourite beverage;
his fame soon spread, and his house, which was popularly
known as " John Shaw's Punch-House," became frequented
by the principal traders and other residents of the town,
who usually assembled about six o'clock in the evening,
and according to rule called for sixpennyworth of punch.
Shaw's military training had made him a martinet in dis-
cipline, and the rules he had laid down for the govern-
ment of his establishment were rigidly enforced. Eight
o'clock was the hour fixed for closing ; as soon as the clock
struck, John's custom was to present himself before his
guests, and proclaiming in a loud voice, "Eight o'clock,
gentlemen, eight o'clock ! " accompanying the announce-
ment with the suggestive cracking of a horsewhip, soon
cleared the house. He was at this time a widower, but
he found an able Heutenant in the person of his maid Molly
Owen, a sturdy damsel of mature years, and of as inflexible
a disposition as her lord. If the cracking of John's whip
failed to " speed the parting guest," Molly was ordered to
bring in a pail of water, and with this would expedite the
movements of the loiterer.
At John's hostelry parliamentary as well as parish
politics were discussed, and here the representatives for
the county were not unfrequently determined upon. The
story is told that, upon the occasion of an election, when
Colonel Stanley had been returned, he took some of his
friends to "John Shaw's " to entertain them. At the usual
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 373
hour John presented himself with his whip ; Colonel Stanley
pleaded that the occasion was a special one, but no en-
treaties could prevail over the inexorable Boniface, who
replied, with characteristic curtness, " Colonel Stanley,
you are a law-maker, and should not be a law-breaker ;
and if you and your friends don't leave this room in five
minutes, you will find your shoes full of water."
Dr Aikin, in his " Description of Manchester," written
in 179S, says that at that time John Shaw had ruled his
little kingdom for more than half a century ; and the same
authority adds, that his " early closing " system had caused
him to be held in great favour with the matrons of
Manchester, who on more than one occasion testified their
high appreciation of his salutary regulations by according
him their thanks. John was himself a thoroughgoing
" Church and King " man, and few persons found their
way into his parlour who did not hold the same views.
If by any accident an unfortunate Whig or Presbyterian
happened to stray within its precincts, and gave expression
to his opinions, he was sure to meet with a reception more
warm than welcome.
The genial spirits who met to discuss punch and poli-
tics under the shadow of the " Punch-House " eventually
formed themselves into a convivial club — the first of the
kind established in Manchester. The club, as originally
constituted, boasted a president and a vice-president ; but
on the death of Mr Clough, popularly known as "Billy
Clough," the first vice-president, there were two or three
contested elections for the vacant chair, that were carried
on with so much turbulence, that John had recourse to a
somewhat autocratic exercise of power, and solved the
374 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
difficulty by "disestablishing" the "vice," and so restored
harmony among his patrons. The punch, as we learn
from the archives .of the club, was served in china bowls. A
shilling-bowl was called a P of punch, and a sixpenny-bowl
a Q. If a member came alone, he called for a Q ; and if
two or more joined, they called for a P ; but seldom more
than sixpence per head was spent. The origin of these
curious designations is now lost, and baffles conjecture;
but it is not improbable they may have suggested the
expression, " Mind your P's and Q's." The club grew and
prospered until the death of the old man, which happened
on 26th January 1796 ; he was then eighty years of age,
and had occupied the house upwards of fifty-eight years.
On the death of John Shaw, one Peter Fearnhead suc-
ceeded to the house. The club continued, and the same
regulations were maintained, with the assistance of John's
old servant, Molly Owen, who appears to have been con-
sidered as a sort of heirloom. A few years later, the
house was altered and part pulled down, when the
members migrated to a public-house at the top of
Smithy Door, kept by a Mrs Fisher. Subsequently they
removed to the Dog and Partridge, at the bottom of
Market Street, then kept by Mr Prescott, and afterwards
by Mrs Glover. The next move was, in 1830, to the
Thatched House Tavern, where the club continued until
1834, when it absorbed the "Sociable Club," a kindred
institution, into its venerable bosom, and removed to the
York Hotel, in King Street, which it vacated in the
following year for the King's Arms, at the bottom of
King Street; but finding the quarters unsatisfactory, it
again changed, and in the same year sought shelter under
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 375
the roof of Mr Joseph Challender, at the Unicorn, in
Smithy Door. On the formation of the present Victoria
Strfeet, in 1838, the Unicorn was pulled down ; Mr
Challender then established himself at the Blackfriars
Hotel, and there the club followed him, where the mem-
bers continued to hold their meetings until 1852, when
another change took place. In May of that year they
had their first meeting at the Spread Eagle, in Hanging
Ditch ; eight years later they again migrated, this time to
the Star Hotel in Deansgate ; and in 1867 the club found,
another home under the appropriate shadow of the Mitre
in the Old Churchyard, where it flourishes fresh and green
in this year of grace 1874.
It is a notable fact that, with scarcely an exception, the
presidents of John Shaw's Club have been octogenarians
before relinquishing their office. The first president of
whom we have any record was James Massey, his successor
being a Mr James Billinge. James Bateman, Esq., an opu-
lent banker and ironfounder, held the office for a lengthy
period, and at his death Mr Thomas Gaskell was elected.
Mr Gaskell remained a member of the club for the long
period of sixty years, and died on the 8th December
1833, at the advanced age of eighty-two, when Captain
Robert Hindley, who had for several years discharged
the duties of "vice," was elected to the vacant office, a
position he continued to hold until 1852, when, on account
of advancing years, being then eighty-two, he resigned, and
Mr Edmund Buckley, formerly (1841-47) M.P. for New-
castle-under-Lyme, was elected as his successor. Mr
Buckley, whose memory will long be cherished by the sur-
viving members of the club, was a regular attender, and
376 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
continued to preside over the meetings until his death in
1865, he having reached the patriarchal age of many of
his predecessors. By his will he bequeathed a small
endowment, which it is hoped the club will long continue
to enjoy. Mr John Reid, of the Bank of England,
was next appointed ; but leaving Manchester almost
immediately afterwards, he resigned the office, and Mr
James Rogerson, a member of the well-known firm of
Langworthy Brothers & Co., who had for some years
•previously discharged the duties of recorder, was elected
in his stead. Mr Rogerson did not long enjoy the honour,
being removed by death in 1871, when the present pre-
sident, Mr Thomas Sowler, was elected. Mr Sowleris the
proprietor, and a son of the founder, of the influential
and widely-circulated journal which for nearly half a cen-
tury has continued the leading organ of the Conserva-
tive party in the North of England, and the steadfast
exponent of constitutional principles in church and state.
He is one of the most " clubbable " of men, a Conservative
in the truest sense of the word ; and under his genial rule
we may hope that "John Shaw's Club " may continue for
many years to come an unbroken link connecting the
social habits of old and riiodern Manchester.
In addition to the president, the club numbers among
its staff of officers a vice-president, a poet-laureate, an
attorney-general, a doctor, a chaplain, and a recorder,
the last-named office being held by the writer of this
paper. The members possess several relics of earlier days,
including a characteristic portrait in oil of John Shaw him-
self, in a scratch wig, and holding a bowl of punch in his
hand ; a companion picture of " Old Molly ; " a portrait in
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 377
oil of Mr Thomas Gaskell, a former president of the club ;
and another by Wilkins of his successor, Captain Hindley,
presented to the members in 1853 by Mr C. Wood ; a
cleverly-executed drawing in pencil of John Shaw, a copy
apparently of the larger picture, the work of Mr Edward
Chesshyre, a former member, who for forty years held
successively the offices of poet-laureate and recorder ; and
an engraved portrait of the late president, Mr Edmund
Buckley. The most valued relic the club possesses was
restored to it by Mr Lushington Phillips in January 1855 —
the long-lost punch-bowl which originally belonged to John
Shaw himself, a barrel-shaped vessel of white china, with
the figure of a bacchante painted on one end. The bowl,
or more correctly speaking, barrel, rests upon a wooden
stillage ; the punch is supplied through an opening in the
top answering to the bung-hole, and drawn off by a metal
tap inserted in the end. Such is John Shaw's Club, a
social institution that has had an existence in Manchester
for wellnigh a century and a half.
The year 1745 was a memorable one in Manchester.
In August the youthful Charles Edward Stuart, son of the
old Pretender and grandson of James the Second, landed
in the Western Islands of Scotland while the King was at
Hanover, and proceeded on his march to Edinburgh, where
he proclaimed his father King. Here the Prince and his
forces were followed by Sir John Cope, who engaged
them at Prestonpans about twelve miles from the capital,
but with such ill success, that the King's troops were
effectually routed in about ten minutes. Encouraged by
this success, and gathering strength as it went forward, the
rebel army advanced southwards. Leaving a small gar-
378 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
rison in Carlisle, and being still unopposed, the march was
continued to Penrith, and thence to Manchester. Colonel
Townley, the representative of an old Lancashire family,
who joined the Pretender's standard at Preston, had made
careful arrangements for the reception of the Prince and
his troops. On the evening of Friday the 28th Novem-
ber the vanguard entered the town, and on the following
morning the main body joined it and encamped in St
Ann's Square — then newly built, and the most fashionable
quarter — where they were greeted with shouts of welcome
by the Jacobites, who assembled in crowds. The force
numbered several hundreds of men, chiefly of the High-
land clans, who marched under the banners of their
respective chieftains to the music of the Highland pipes,
and though but indifferently clad, they appeared to be in
high spirits.
The Prince took up his quarters at the residence of a
Manchester merchant in Market Street Lane — Mr John
Dickenson, an ancestor of the Dickensons of Birch in
Rusholme,-now represented by Sir William Reynell Anson,
Bart. Mr Dickenson's house thenceforward became known
as the " Palace ; " subsequently it was converted into a
tavern bearing the name of the " Palace Inn," and more
recently it has been rebuilt as a warehouse, which still
retains the designation of " Palace Buildings." The prin-
cipal officers assembled at the Bull's Head in the Market
place, a house noted as the resort of those disaffected to
the Hanoverian cause.
Several of the gentlemen and principal -traders of the
town enrolled themselves, and a Manchester regiment was
raised in the service of Prince Charles. Colonel Townley
Old Manchester andits Worthies. 379
took the command ; three of the sons of Dr Deacon, a
celebrated nonjuring divine, received commissions, as did
also Captain Dawson, the hero of Shenstone's pathetic
ballad of " Jemmy Dawson." The youthful Syddall, who,
as we have said, had conceived an implacable hatred
against the Hanoverian race after the rising in 17 15, was
made adjutant, and one of the masters of the Grammar
School, the Rev. Thomas Coppock, was appointed chap-
lain. Baines says that, " as if foreseeing their destiny, " the
Manchester regiment was reviewed in St Ann's Church-
yard. It is more probable that St Ann's Square was
the place selected, as the circumscribed area of the
churchyard would hardly afford space for a military
display.
On the morning after his arrival, the Young Chevalier
was proclaimed in St Ann's Square, great rejoicings
followed, and the day was wound up with an illumination
and a display of fireworks. On the Sunday a special
service was celebrated in the Old Church, at which many
of the rebel army attended, the sermon being preached by
Coppock, the newly-appointed chaplain. The Prince oc-
cupied the warden's stall, and the ladies of the congre-
gation, to testify their enthusiasm in the cause, decked them-
selves in tartan ribbons and shawls. The Whigs and Pres-
byterians of the town kept out of the way, and, as Dr Halley
remarks, " In old Puritan Manchester the orange plumes
seemed to have grown pale, and faded into white feathers
before the bright colours of the Stuart tartan."
On the morning of Monday the ist December the Prince
resumed his march, a portion of the army fording the Mer-
sey at Stretford, and the remainder crossing at Stockport ;
380 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
thence the troops passed through Macclesfield and Leek,
and reached Derby on the 4th. But though
" The Stuart, leaning on the Scot,
Pierced to the very centre of the realm,
In hopes to seize his abdicated helm," —
his career was suddenly stopped. Hearing that the Duke
of Cumberland with an army of veterans was in the
neighbourhood, and distrusting the skill of their own
officers, they beat a retreat northwards, carrying with them
whatever in the way of booty they could lay their hands
upon. On reaching Manchester, the regiment raised by
Colonel Townley was broken up and dispersed, but Cop-
pock, Syddall, Dawson, the Deacons, and several other of
the more determined supporters of the Prince, pushed on
to Carlisle, where they were compelled to surrender. Cop-
pock was executed in the Border City, but the others were
sent to London, and there condemned to the scaffold. The
head of Syddall was sent to Manchester, and placed upon
the Exchange. . Captain Thomas Deacon was treated in
like manner ; and it is recorded of the father, that he never
afterwards passed the spot where the insulted countenance
of his son had been exposed without reverently raising his
hat as a token of respect. A Jacobite poet has embalmed
the memory of these Manchester martyrs in the following
quaint lines : —
" The Deel has set your heads to view,
And stickt them upon poles ;
Poor Deel ! 'twas all that he could do.
Since God has ta'en their souls.''
The Hanoverians of Manchester celebrated the suppres-
sion of the rebellion with public rejoicings ; the church-bells
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 381
were rung, and orange ribbons were flaunted in the streets
as gaily as the Stuart tartan had been a few weeks before.
A riotous mob assembled, and proceeded to the house of
Dr Deacon, and afterwards made an attack on that of the
Widow Syddall, and in cruel mockery compelled both
to make an appearance of rejoicing by illuminating their
windows.
The Bull's Head, where the officers of Prince Charles's
army established their headquarters, was a noted hostelry
in the days of the Georges. The house still remains, and
the gruff countenance of its ancient sign may yet be. seen
over the archway leading to its long-frequented parlour.
The place was the principal rendezvous of the Jacobite
party, and here Dr Byrom and other beaux esprits who
supported the cause of the exiled dynasty held their con-
vivial meetings.
The Bull's Head, as we have said, was a house of
considerable note. Here many questions affecting the
welfare and prosperity of the town were discussed ; and
when, after the final overthrow of the Stuart dynasty, and
the bitterness of party feeling had subsided, it became
the meeting-place of those who were really the pioneers
in improving the system of municipal government. From
this ancient hostelry emanated the plans for widening and
improving some of the principal thoroughfares, and for
th.e better lighting and watching of the streets. On the 2d
March 1775, a meeting was held, at which a subscription
was commenced for purchasing the buildings necessary
for widening the Old Millgate, St Mary's Gate, and the
passage leading from the Exchange to St Ann's Square.
Ten thousand pounds was the estimate sum required,
382 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
and by the 2Sth July in the same year, the secretary
to the fund, Mr Jo. Chippindall, a member of an old
Lancashire family, now represented by the Rev. Jno.
Chippindall, M.A., rector of St Luke's, Cheetham, and
rural dean, was able to announce that £10,771, 3s. 6d.
had been contributed by sundry public-spirited indivi-
duals, the name of John Shaw appearing among the
number.
Nine years later, liberal minds were again at work
devising liberal things for the benefit of future genera-
tions. Robert Raikes had just propounded his scheme
for the establishment of Sunday-schools. From an
account of the introduction of these institutions into
Manchester by the 'Rev. John Piccope, a former incum-
bent of St Paul's, we learn that on the lOth August 1784
Thomas Johnson, the boroughreeve, and John Kearsley,
and Henry Norris, constables, issued a circular urging the
introduction of Sunday-schools into Manchester, accom-
panied with an address on the subject from the pen of
Dr Bayley, the founder of St James's, and convening a
meeting of the inhabitants, to be held on the 27th of
the same month, "at Mr Shaw's, the Bull's Head Inn."
At this meeting a subscription list was opened, and in
this way the Sunday-school system, which has since taken
such deep root, and conferred such inestimable benefits
upon the town, was first introduced.
Here, then, we bring our narrative to a close. We have
endeavoured to place before the reader, though but very
imperfectly, some account of " Old Manchester and its
Worthies," and to give a retrospect of the great trading
city, showing the continuity that exists between the old
Old Manchester and its Worthies. 383
British town of Mancuniitm, the entrenched camp from
whence the polished subjects of the Caesars dispensed their
laws, the ancient Saxon village, the dingy narrow-laned
but thriving town of the Elizabethan period, and the iden-
tical Manchester, the streets of which we are treading
to-day. And may not Manchester men with honest pride
confess that in the records of their good old town there are
to be found examples worthy of imitation in all succeeding
ages ? It is an oft-repeated saying that —
"The evil which men do Hves after them :
The good is oft interred with their bones."
But it is happily just as often the reverse ; and so it is
with Manchester's departed " worthies ; " whatever of evil
attached is interred with them, but the good endures, and
will cause their names to be, cherished in the grateful
memory of Manchester men to all time. We have only
been able to dwell upon the more notable of the local
worthies, but the long roll of names that Manchester pos-
sesses is one of which any city may be justly proud ; and as
we study the characters of those good and earnest men
who in their day and generation rendered such distinguished
service to the town, may we not rejoice that their example
has been so worthily followed in later times. As we now
chronicle admiringly the De la Warrs, the Huntingtons,
the Oldhams, the Bradfords, the Chethams, the Newcomes,
and the Hulmes of old times, so may future generations
gratefully recount the good works of the Owenses, the
Athertons, the Fletchers, the Barneses, the Gladstones, the
Birleys, and the Langworthys of the present.
384 Memorials of Manchester Streets.
THE CHORUS.
As the Chorus is an ancient idea, we have thought it
might be applied, with some appropriateness, at the ter-
mination of our chronicle anent ancient Manchester. To
the Chorus was given the privilege of expressing an after-
thought, as well as a fore-thought, — of whispering an aside,
— or of indulging in such reasonable byplay as might seem
meet when the main incidents of the drama were enacted,
and the curtain was about to fall.
In such privileged spirit, we have peered into the Sub-
scription List prefixed to these Memorials, which partakes
much of the character of a peacemaker, for therein are all
shades of difference blended and reconciled. The Liberal
Duke and the Conservative Earl grace the same platform ;
whilst rival candidates for parliamentary honours are no
longer at enmity.
Evidently LITERATURE is the neutral ground whereon
the opposing warriors in the battle of life may smoke the
pipe or light the cigar of peace. Where, in any other
direction, shall we find such neutral safeguard .' In the
political hemisphere .? Nay. If Andrew Marvel, a model
of political purity, could return from the shades to join
one of our clubs, the opposing associations would denounce
him as venal. And even in the loftier sphere of religion,
if an angel were to descend to preach one of the many
earthly doctrines, we fear that, in the eyes of all other
doctrinarians, the winged messenger would cease to be
angelic. But in LITERATURE (for which blessing let all
persons be duly grateful) is found the realisation of the
Happy Land !
R. W. P.
INDEX.
Actors' farewell addresses, 8i
Adams, Orion, newspaper publisher,
i8s
Adams, Roger, newspaper publisher,
184
Agnew, Thomas, Mayor of Salford, 88
Ajnsworth, William Harrison, remarks
on the rebels, 269
Ancient Deansgate and the " rows " of
Chester, 218
Ancoats Bridge, double murder at, 124
Anderton, T., newspaper publisher, 201
Armstrong, Mr, recorder, 92
Ashcrofts and Holden, execution of, 70
Aston, Joseph, newspaper proprietor,
164-174
Atherton, Miss Eleanor, 137, 265
Aytoun, Comet, 13, 14
Baines, Richard, 40
Ballad of Sir Tarquin, 102
Bamford, Hannah, grave and epitaph,
63
Banne, Nathaniel, A.M., 260
Barritt, Thomas, 16, 35, 220
Berry and Casson's plans of Manchester
and Salford, 269
Bishop Lee ; biographical sketch and
memorial sermon, 286, 287
Blacklock, Robert, printer, 202
Blenorchard, or Wallegreenes, 204
Boathouse and curious bath in Salford,
239, 240
Bookseller's petition, i8o
Bookstalls and book-hunters, 51
Booth, Humphrey, his tombstone in-
scription, 279
Bothe, Thomas del, 12, 333
Bowden, Wright, opera-singer, 80
Bower, Miles and Elizabeth, 263
Bradford, John, martyr, 348-350
Brearcliffe, Sarah, Erearcliffe's Build-
ings, 24s
Brideoake, Ralph, 364
Brookes, Rev. Joshua, 34, 35, 37
Brookes, Warwick, artist, 249
Broster, Charles, 245
Broster, Sarah, 178
Browne, John, earliest stationer, 1 79
Bull-bait in Red Bank, the last, 43
Bull's Head, Market Place, 194, 381
Buttercups and daisies, 253
Butter seized, St George and the Dra-
gon notwithstanding, 274
Butter short of weight distributed
amongst the poor, 273, 274
Byrom, John, 370, 371
Calvert, Very Rev, Thomas, CD., 281
Cartmel, kitchen-fire unextinguished, 73
Cartmel Priory Church, 72
Castle wall at Castle Field, 100
Cathedral Yard, 188
Centenarians — Jonas Mann, Ann Bar-
ton, 280
Chadderton, Dr, Warden, 350
Charity school in the Old Churchyard,
178
Chetham, Humphrey, 30, 33, 352-355
Chetham Library, on the, 299-316
" Cherry ripe," 251, 252
Cherry-trees, gardens, and orchards,
207
Clarke, Abraham and Isaac, book-
sellers, 198
Clarke, Dr, Adam, 166
Clayton, Rev. John, 193
Clayton, William, bookseller, 192
Clock Alley, 274
Club, John Shaw's, 373-377
Cocks and hens, throwing at, on
Shrove Tuesday, 273
Cockpit and cockfighting. Paradise
Salford, 246, 247
Cockpit at the upper end of Deansgate,
131
College Barn at the College Gate-house,
135
College, Chetham's, election of scholars
30,31
2 C
386
Index.
Collier, Thomas and John, printworks,
Springfield, 244, 245
Coronation rejoicings at Salford Cross,
248
Cross and Court-house, Salford, 247,
248
Crossley, James, F.S.A., 145
Cnimpsall Hall and Cottage, 33, 34,
341, 352
Curious recapitulation of the events of
ancient history, 312
Curiosities shown at the College (now
dispersed, chiefly to the museum at
Peel Park), 307
Deansgate, retrospective glance of,2i3
Dee, Dr John, 351
Defoe, Mercy and Daniel, 282
De la Warr, Baron of Manchester, 4,
108, 113, 333-339
Delineations of the ancient town, 319-
333
Derby, Edward, the third Earl of the
House of Stanley, 114, 1155 the
" Erie's " epitaph, Ii6
Description of Crumpsall Hall, 33, 34
Diary of Edmund Harrold, extracts
from, 259, 260
Eagle and Child Coffee - house,
218
Easby, John, correspondent of the Era,
224-229
Eel chased in the Irwell in 1825, 5
Egerton, Lord Francis, and the remains
of the Castle wall, 100
Exchange, the first, 267, 268
Falkner, Matthew, newspaper pub-
lisher, 165, 196
Fall of a stage, eight persons drowned,
64,65
Fatal panic at the Trafford Arms, 236-
238
Fine for selling bread before it had
been baked twenty-four hours, 274
Fire-engines, former stations, 271
Floods, list of, 7, 8
Foster, Thomas, shot on Blackfriars
Bridge, 39
Gallant, Ann, 280
Gibson, Mr, town-clerk of Salford, 89
Green-Gown School, epitaphs on first
master and mistress, 230 ; Costumes
and present property, 232
Greenwood, John, early printer, 183
Gregson Street and Watson Street, 215
Hale Churchyard, epitaph on a cen-
tenarian, 129
Hanson, Joseph, "Weavers' Friend,"
19-23
Harland, John, 122, 289
Harrold, Edmund, wigmaker and dealer
in books, 1 83
Harrop,James,newspaperpubIisher, 200
Harrop, Joseph, newspaper publisher,
199-200
Haslingden, John, bookseller, 201
Haworth family : Haworth's Gates, 36-
38
Hayes, George, artist, 39
Heathcote, Nathaniel, stationer, 181
Herald office attacked by a mob, 165
Heron, Joseph (now Sir), town-clerk,-
92
Heywood, Thomas Percival (now Sir),
High Sheriff, 88
Hibbert-Ware, Samuel, M.D., 189, 190
Higson, John, 288-291
Hilton, Robert, bookseller, 182
Hinde, Mrs Ann, monumental inscrip-
tion, 229
Hindley, Job, 46-49
Historical monuments in village
churches, 284
Hodges, Thomas, bookseller, 195
Holland, Abraham, bookseller, 182
Holmbe, William, printer, 196
Hoole, Josephus, A.M., 260
Hopps, John, bookseller, 202
" Hot Chelsea Buns," 275
Houlds worth, Thomas, M.P., 83
Howard, John, prison philanthropist,
14, IS
Hud, Thomas, earliest printer, 182
Hughes, Moses, oboe player, 217
Hull, William, an artist's sketch-book, 9
Hulme, William, founder of the Charity
bearing his name, 366
Hulme's Milne, or Holm's Mill, 108
Human skeleton discovered in Halli-
well Lane, 209
Humourist and Weekly Journal, pub-
lished by Orion Adams, 185
Humphreys' Gardens, in
Huntington, John, warden, 340
Infirmary to Ardwick Green, new
road opened, 271
Index.
Z^7
Johnson, Ephraim, bookseller, 183
Jones, Wilraot Henry, printer, 75
Jordan, William, earliest calico printer,
283
Jvipiter Stator, statuette excavated, 128
Kersal Moor, concerning its ballads,
138, 141
"Knot Mill Giant's Tower," Tarquin
and Sir Lancelot, loi
Labrey's Fold, 1 10, 132
Langley, Robert, Langley Hall, 36
Lawson, Charles, 26, 27
Lee, Jesse, genealogist and author, 213,
214
Lees, Richard, bookbinder, ig6
Lever, Robert, of Darcy Lever, 76, 79
Lever's Hall, 272
Literary evergreens and ephemerals,
60
Little Red Riding-Hood, 157
Liverseege, Henry, list of Ids works,
154
Longworth Street, "Mr Longworth's
house," 130
Lnddite riots and executions, 123-125
"Ludditing" in Alport Lane, 123;
three of the rioters executed, 124
Manchester at market in 1823, 194,
195
Manchester Jacobites, heads of, 266,
267, 368-381
Manchester "ragman," and "King's
cobbler," 282
Morton, William, artist, 250
Mosley, Sir Oswald, " Family Me-
moirs," 106, 113, 126
Moxon, Mordecai, stationer, 182
Mulberry Street, 265
Newberry, Mrs Ann, 265
Newcome, Henry, Nonconformist
divine, 365
Newton, Thomas and William, book-
sellers, 197, 198
Old Apple-Market, 26
Old bookseller's experience, 59
Old Church of St Mary's, 295, 296
Old Churchyard, its rural aspects, 176
Old Coffee-house in the Market Place,
220
Oldham, Hugh, founder of the Free
Grammar School, 341-34S
Old Iron Foundry, Red Bank, 44
"Old Mortality" among the tombs,
71
Oldham Street, a public road, 272
Ordsal great bam, 295
Orme, W., sketcher of Hunt's Bank,
3.4,6
Our native streams, " Rambles by
Rivers," 8
Owen, John, his diary, 291-296
Palmer, John, architect, 191, 192
Panoramic view of modem Deansgate,
212
Parsonage lands, prospect of, 207
" Pauper's Drive," by T. Noel, 10
Peel Lane, near the Mile House, 282
Perrin, Joseph, at the Manchester
" Poets' Comer," 28
Philips, Robert, of the Park, monumen-
tal inscriptions, 23
Piccadilly, its characteristics, 146-149
Pit at the top of Market Street Lane,
270
Plague, man chained in his cabin during
the, 13
Potter, Sir John, Mayor of Manchester,
93
Pratt, John and Joseph, printers, 44
Prescott, John, newspaper publisher,
201
Printing-office of the Manchester Mer-
cury, 199
Prisoners, list of, 12-14
Punishments, former modes and instru-
ments of, 356, 357
"Purgatory" and the "Lion's Den,"
in Deansgate, 217
QuiNCEY, John, linen-draper, 206
Quincey, Thomas, linen merchant, 261
Quincey, Thomas de, 261-263
Races, their origin at Manchester and
Liverpool, 137
Raikes, R., origin of Sunday-schools,
382
Robert Owen and Robert Fulton, 134
Roman road, traces of, 322
Rood's Gutter, the, 38
Rosworm, Colonel, 359
Sal Ford, 250
Salford bridge and dungeon, 233-236
Salford charter, 240 ; Spaw Street, 24 1
Salford fifty years ago, 241-255
388
Index.
Sanctuary houses, 345
" Saynte Mary Gayte," 208
Schofield, J., newspaper publisher, 200
Sedan-chairs, the latest used in Man-
chester, 265
Sedgwick's Court, Everett and Mont-
gomery, 211
Seven Stars, Withy Grove, 56, 57
" Shakers " at church, 14
Shaw, John, Punch-House,264,37i-375
Shepherd's Court, Deansgate, 210
Shelmerdine, Ralph, bookseller, 182
Shelmerdine, William, stationer, 180
Shop window illustrated, 54
Shudehill reservoir and pits, 270
Siege of Manchester, 118, 119, 360
Signboards, 153, 272
Sir Lancelot and the Knot Mill giant,
lOI
Smith, Thomas, "buckbinder," 180, 181
Smithy Door Bank, picturesque house,
266
Sorrocolds and the " Pynners," 219
Sowler family, inscriptions on the
tomb of the, 211, 212
Spinning field, and Lye the jockey,
135. 136
Springfield Lane, 244
St Ann's Square and its original
entrances, 256-259
Standings and markets, former posi-
tions, 271
Stanley emblems in Long Millgate, 38
Stany hurst, accidents at, 65 ■
Stephenson, James, pictorial engraver,
214
Stewart Street and its builder, 129
St John Street, "Sir Percy Legh,"
215-217
St Michael, supposed church of, 121, 122
Strange, Lord, at Aldport Lodge, 118,
119 ; emblematic carving in Bolton
Church, 120
Sugar Lane, victims of the plague, 78
Suicides buried at cross roads, 209
Summer camp of the Romans, 178
Taylor family, the oldest known
epitaph belonging to the Cathedral
Yard, 278
Thyer, Robert, librarian of Chetham's
College, 233
Timperley, Charles H., printer and
author, 186, 187
Tomb of our first Bishop, inscription on
the, 285
Tower of the Cathedral rebuilt, 292, 293
Tumbull, M., newspaper publisher, 200
"Victorious Stump," John Wild
the pedestrian, 141-144
Wagstaff, Silence, and Mr Leigh,
208
Ward, Mr and Mrs, comedians, 80-83
Water- Poet's description of his enter-
tainment, 221
Water worth's Field, 5
Weatherley, James, his diary, 5^-59
Weighing-machine at Aldport town, 130
Wesley, John, preaching, 248, 369
"What's in a name?" street nomen-
clature, 222
Whatton, William Robert, F.R.S.,
igo, 191
Wheeler, Charles, newspaper proprie-
tor, 202
Whitaker, Gamaliel, royalist vicar,
66, 67
Whitaker, Rev. John, 120-123, 178,
179, 208
Whitworth, John, bookseller, 183
Whitworth, Robert, newspaper pub-
lisher, 183, 193, 194
Whitworth, Zachary, bookseller, 183
Willatt, John, postmaster; Wilktt,
Sarah, postmistress, 264
Williamson, George, seventy years
chorister and singing man, 281
Windmill near St Peter's Church, 131
Withingreave Hall, orchard, and garden,
270
Wolcot, Dr, 179
Woman slain by a, tree in the Old
Churchyard, 176
Worsley, Charles, of Piatt, 361-363
Wray, Cecil Daniel, M.A., 280
Wroe, James, bookseller, and news-
paper proprietor, 53-55
PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMtANV
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
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